


No Bed Of Rose's

by HorizonTheTransient



Series: No Bed Of Rose's [1]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Protagonist, Pining, transgender protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 36,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonTheTransient/pseuds/HorizonTheTransient
Summary: Glory Girl is probably the best friend you could have, being transgender and gay in a city where one of the biggest gangs is Neo-Nazis. The downside is, well... You can't help but develop some inappropriate and unrequited feelings for her in the process, especially if she's kind of your only friend.But it's fine. It's your problem, not hers, and it's a problem you can live with.You'll live.
Series: No Bed Of Rose's [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759570
Comments: 133
Kudos: 162





	1. Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> This story was brought to you in no small part thanks to my collaborators: Lyrisey, Oxto, Lark, NBBTCS, and Tempestuous. Thanks to all of you for spitballing ideas with me; I couldn't have done it without you.

"Hey! You're back!"

I looked up from mopping the floor to see Glory Girl and Laserdream walking into the diner, Glory Girl looking like she'd just seen a close friend for the first time in months, and Laserdream looking like it was one in the morning and she just wanted some damn coffee and pancakes to prepare for her patrol in an hour, when the bars close and people start walking home en masse.

"Oh, hey," I said. "Yeah, this is a summer job for me." I went back to mopping the floors; I wasn't the waiter, I was the busboy, and that meant I didn't have to take their orders. That was Nathan's job, and he didn't have anyone else to pay attention to.

"Remember all those weird midnight arguments we used to have all the time?" Glory Girl asked, flying across the floor to carefully set herself in the seat in front of me- the diner had a bar of sorts, with slightly-swiveling seats solidly affixed to steel beams that anchored firmly into the base of the bar itself. Behind her were a few rows of booths with padded benches and high dividers topped with panes of frosted glass; off on the other end of the bar were a few tables with actual chairs, vastly outnumbered by the booths. "Like whether or not corporate mascots qualify as fursonae?"

"Oh my god, Victoria," Laserdream said, walking across the diner floor like a normal person.

"Ah, yes, that one," I said. "Or the  _ real _ argument over what the plural of fursona is. Yes, I remember those  _ very _ well."

"Great, because I missed those arguments, and  _ so... _ " She pulled out a small pocket notepad, and flipped it open. "I started compiling a list of every thought that popped into my head and made me think 'huh, that'd be a fun argument to have with Joe.'"

"That is simultaneously very flattering and also frankly terrifying."

"Thank you, I try my best. Item one: is it possible to get pegged by a robot?"

" _ Victoria! _ " Laserdream snapped. " _ Why _ are you  _ like this? _ And  _ you! _ "

"My name's Joe."

"Quit enabling her!"

"You kidding?" I asked. "This is the highlight of my day."

"Aw, thanks," Vicky said. "That means a lot to me. Anyhow, answer the question."

Laserdream turned around and walked back to the other end of the bar, trying to get out of earshot of us. Nathan- the waiter, one of those white dudes with brown hair, a goatee, and glasses who you could not possibly tell apart from each other- took her order, and then poured her a mug of coffee.

"Okay, so, the fact that this  _ is _ a question means there's some weird semantic component to the definition of pegging," I said. "So, lemme ask  _ you _ a question- why  _ wouldn't _ one be able to get pegged by a robot?"

"Can I interrupt for a moment?" Nathan asked. "What would you like?"

"Oh, uh, coffee, pancakes, and scrambled eggs for me," Vicky said. "Thanks."

"We'll get those right out for ya."

He poured her a mug of coffee, and then walked off.

"Anyhow, so," Vicky said. "Pegging is commonly defined by the use of a prosthetic penis- y'know, a strap-on. Now, where this gets  _ tricky _ is the question of, well, what qualifies as prosthetic for a robot? Robots are  _ wholly _ artificial. Pretty much  _ any _ part of them could be argued to be prosthetic."

"Well, I mean, if the robot's wearing a strap-on-"

"See, but that implies it's  _ how it's attached _ is what matters, which is weird, with robots," Vicky said. "What if it was attached with a suction cup, huh? Or glue? Or how about some sorta screw-on system?"

"There's a pun somewhere in threading, and sewing being a euphemism for fucking, but... no, I can't make it work out loud," I said, shrugging. "So I'll let you try to imagine it and then take credit for being funnier than I actually am."

"That sounds about right, yeah."

"Anyhow, lemme ask you  _ this _ \- what about if the phallus is  _ not _ attached to the robot at  _ all _ , but is instead affixed to a mindless drone  _ controlled _ by the robot?" I asked.

"I'm not sure if that would be pegging, but it  _ would _ be teledildonics, a related but ultimately distinct field," Vicky said.

"I hate that you were able to improvise that word on-the-fly."

"Oh, I didn't improvise it. It's real."

"...Christ, protect me from my own curiosity..."

"Anyhow, that one's kinda running out of steam... Item two... no, that one's not as good as I thought..." She frowned, shuffling through the rest of her notebook. "You got anything?"

"Are tyrannosaurs made  _ more _ or  _ less _ terrifying by the addition of feathers."

"More. You ever met a peacock? Those things will  _ fuck you up _ ."

"Yeah, fair. Uhhhhhhh... Hrm. Shit, I got nothin'. I gotta finish mopping the floor, anyhow. I'll be back in a minute. Let you know if I think of anything."

* * *

"Okay, here's a scenario for you," I said, after I came back inside from taking the trash out. "You play much D&D?"

"Not really, no, but I follow forum arguments about it for fun," Vicky said. "Lay it on me."

"Alright, so. There you are, a standard low-level adventurer. Let's also say you are... a Paladin. Good mental stats, bound to be Lawful Good, all that. And you've been hired by a tavernkeeper to clear some giant spiders out of her cellar," I said. "Pretty standard, right?"

"I object to Paladin on the grounds that the mechanics of the class are disappointing, but otherwise I'm fully on board."

"Well, you go down there with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other, and you spot a giant spider... and  _ then _ it turns out all the spiders can  _ talk _ and their leader's claiming adverse possession over the cellar, on the grounds that the tavernkeeper hasn't cleaned the place in literal decades. So. What do you do?"

"Oooooh, that's a tough one. Okay, adverse possession- does the code of laws I'm bound to  _ recognize _ adverse possession, or is this a meaningless term that won't stop me from politely but firmly evicting the spiders?"

"I'm going to say... yes," I said. "You're bound to obey the jurisdiction of whatever locale you reside in,  _ with the exception _ of locales that you reside in  _ as part of a formal invading military force. _ If you storm the Orcish Warboss' camp to slay him, you're not bound by his laws, but if you're there for diplomatic purposes, or mercantile purposes, you kinda  _ are _ . And the tavern happens to be in a land that legally recognizes adverse possession."

"Okay, okay, I see, I get that. Alright." She took a deep breath. "So, defining 'people' as 'entities afforded the full protections and privileges of the law,' do these spiders count as  _ people? _ "

"Now  _ that _ right there is a  _ much _ larger question. What qualities do or do not qualify someone for personhood under the law? Presumably, elves and dwarves and perhaps sometimes even orcs qualify as people under the law, so it's not fully humanocentric,  _ but _ , what criterions would the courts plausibly have for recognizing the personhood of non-humanoid beings?"

"Okay, okay, uh... Okay, let's say they don't  _ completely _ discriminate against non-humanoid persons, because  _ dragons _ aren't humanoid and yet  _ they  _ would probably voice strenuous objection to legally not being people-"

"Ah, but  _ would _ they?" I asked. "Do dragons meaningfully participate in mortal society to the degree that the law would account for them in such a way?"

"Shit, that's a good point," Vicky muttered. "Okay, hang on- what  _ kind _ of dragons are we talking, here?"

"Bog-standard D&D dragons," I said. "So, y'know. Fully capable of speech and usually smarter than you, frequently with inborn sorcerous ability and sometimes shapeshifting."

"Okay, okay... so, let's think... Oh! Okay, so, one thing we're overlooking is the druid spell Awaken, which grants sapience and speech to  _ any _ animal or plant. Let's say that the neighboring Elven lands has a tradition of casting the spell upon the animals in its lands, and those animals are granted full rights of citizenship.  _ Now _ -" she paused to shovel an impractical amount of scrambled egg into her mouth. "-to avoid awkward diplomatic relationships, the kingdom I'm currently in  _ also _ recognizes such creatures as persons, and therefore I just have to argue in a court of law that those statutes apply to these spiders!"

"Ah, but think-  _ is _ there such a blanket recognition?" I asked. "Or is it merely a recognition of foreign citizenship- meaning, these spiders will need to prove their citizenship of the Elfish Grove before their legal rights are recognized?"

"Hrm...  _ hrm _ ..."

In my peripheral vision, I noticed Laserdream putting on very bulky noise-canceling headphones.

"I'm gonna say," Vicky said carefully, "that there is... a  _ middle ground _ . Awakened creatures are citizens... but  _ only _ if they can  _ prove _ that they are Awakened, which requires a druid to vouch for them."

"Alright, that's a pretty weird middle ground, considering it leaves out talking animals produced by methods other than druidic Awakening, but altogether it feels like a  _ reasonable _ blind spot to have," I allowed. "So, your paladin has a potentially legitimate claim of adverse possession on her hands."

"Why is my paladin automatically a girl?"

"I default to feminine pronouns to describe arbitrary or hypothetical persons. Anyhow, what do you  _ do _ with this claim?"

"That would  _ probably  _ be... go fetch the town guard, talk to the magistrate, and ensure that the spiders get their day in court." She swallowed the last of her scrambled eggs. "God, I missed this. So, what's new with you?" She took a swig of coffee, and a terrible idea formed in my brain.

"Well, I'm a cape now," I said quietly.

She did, in fact, spray coffee all over my front.


	2. Girl Talk

"I'm  _ really _ sorry about the coffee."

"It's  _ fine _ . I was wearing an apron and a garbage bag already."

She blinked. It was two hours later, after both our shifts had ended, and here we were, standing out back behind the diner, in relative privacy.

"A... garbage bag."

"Yeah," I said. "I take a plastic garbage bag, I hold it up to my shoulders, and then I put the apron on over top of that." I mimed the actions- I'd shed the apron and garbage bag already, and all that remained of my uniform was a baseball cap with a company logo on the front(which I only assumed stood in for a hairnet) and a white short-sleeved button-up with metal snaps for buttons. Oh, and slip-proof black shoes that were honestly rather uncomfortable, but damn if they didn't work. "Keeps things from soaking through the apron into my shirt, although I  _ still _ end up going home uncomfortably damp." I very carefully did  _ not _ parlay that into a joke about her date nights, because I was capable of recognizing the difference between talking and joking about sex in the abstract, and talking and joking about her sex life in particular. One was fodder for hair-splitting semantic arguments, one was a goddamned minefield.

"Huh. Yeah, I suppose that makes sense that washing dishes for a living might leave you soaked at the end of your shift," Vicky muttered. "Here's the thing, though- why  _ are _ you a dishwasher in the first place? You're a cape! You can just  _ join the Wards _ if you want, get paid  _ that _ way. They'll take any idiot- hell, they even took... uh... shit, who's appropriately useless... uh... Triu- no, Triumph is... Okay, so the Wards East-North-East are actually reasonably formidable,  _ but _ I can assure you, no matter  _ what _ your power is, even if it's something stupid, like... I don't know, controlling crabs and butterflies, or being really good at math, or being incredibly forgettable, the Wards and Protectorate  _ will _ pay you a pretty good wage  _ just _ to be there."

"Eh, maybe," I said quietly. "Would I need to tell my parents about it?"

"It's... negotiable," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm three months off from my trigger event," I said. "No, I'm not okay. But also, no, it doesn't have to do with my parents, I just don't like them, or trust them, or want them knowing anything about what I'm up to. They have been... Unhelpful and untrustworthy, in the past."

"Mmn."

"And if I don't have the means to leave altogether- and believe me, I would love nothing more- then I would instead prefer to rock the boat as little as possible, and minimize their presence in my day-to-day life." I sighed. "Sorry, I... didn't mean to dump all that on you."

"Hey, I asked," she said. "I'm sorry you have to deal with all that, hon." She patted me on the shoulder, and I was reminded of just how starved I was of physical human contact. She was a friend, apparently, and she was sympathetic...

...but no, I wouldn't push my luck any further. Not like that.

"But yeah, if I  _ do _ end up doing cape shit... which, honestly, I probably won't... It'd probably mainly be to sorta... live a more authentic version of myself, for the time being," I said. "You've been a good friend, and so far as I can tell, a great person, so... Can I entrust you with a secret that could legitimately get me killed, especially in a town like this?"

"I think I see where this is going, and the answer is yes, you can trust me," Vicky said, nodding. "Anyone tries to give you shit for it, I'll kick their asses."

"Thanks. It's... Okay, how much do you know about weird gender stuff?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Alright, well, fuck it. Basically, I am  _ definitely _ not a boy, but otherwise I tend to vacillate between 'gender? I 'ardly  _ know _ 'er!' and 'yep I am very definitely a girl.' And basically where this leaves us is... One, in private- not that we really talk to each other  _ outside _ the diner- I'd appreciate it if you called me Rose instead of Joe. And  _ two _ ... I think, if I do try cape shit... would you mind helping me put together a cape identity that reads as unambiguously feminine?"

"Hell yeah I will," Vicky said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close; unexpected, but  _ very  _ pleasant, even if it did draw attention to that ache in the front of my chest. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, to be honest- touch starvation, or gender dysphoria. It  _ was _ something that mostly came up when I thought about gender stuff, and also it was exactly where boobs would be if I had them, so I was inclined to think it was the latter, but... "Oooooh, you know what  _ that _ means?" Oh, right, she's still talking. "It  _ means _ , we get to do a teen movie-style  _ shopping trip! _ "

"No."

"Great, let's- wait, what?"

"I said no. I'm not interested. I do not want to go on a shopping trip of any sort."

"...Alright, well... Hrm. Okay, okay, I think I can work with this. My family orders a lot of costume supplies, so we've got plenty lying around the house," Vicky said. "Actually, hang on- you're not a  _ Tinker _ , are you?"

"Unfortunately, no. I'm no better at building things than a mostly-normal human," I said. "My power is... Basically, I can push people backwards through time."

"Wait, your power is  _ time travel? _ "

"No, not like that, it's more... let's say you bit off your thumbnail about five minutes ago. I could push you back to  _ before _ you bit off your nail, and you'd still be here, you'd just be the you of five minutes ago, who was about to bite off your thumb nail. You wouldn't remember any of those intervening five minutes, because from your perspective, they didn't happen yet. But time's moved on, so it'll never happen again... Okay, I might have to try that again."

"No, no, I get it," Vicky said. "You push people back in time to before they got hurt, and that erases the injury  _ and _ any memories from during or after the injury, basically?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I can also touch people and see every injury they've ever had, and when it happened." Like the last time she stubbed her toe, last year. Before her trigger event.

She blinked, and I could  _ feel _ her reconsider touching me. Thankfully, she kept her arm where it was. "Okay, so... Hrm. That'd be a  _ really good _ healing power... Alright, I have an idea! Tomorrow- or, well,  _ later today _ \- swing by my place at, like... noon-ish? We'll workshop a cape identity for you, and Mom probably has some super-healing contracts laying around that New Wave wasn't able to accept for whatever reason."

"Thanks," I said.

"Hey, what else are friends for?"

"Arguing about Cartesian Rationality at one in the morning?"

"Well, okay, that too." She squeezed a little, in an awkward half-hug, then let go. "Alright, get some rest, I'll see you tomor- er,  _ later today _ . Oh! Uh, uh, question, regarding what I tell my mother-"

"I am your friend Rose who is  _ very touchy _ about my perceived lack of femininity, which is  _ entirely true,  _ and only omits deeply personal details that I should not be obligated to disclose."

"Got it. Seeya!"

She lifted off the ground and flew off. I sighed, the newfound warmth in my chest fading, leaving only the dull ache... and then I walked off towards my car.

* * *

I didn't sleep, these days. I'd thought it was just PTSD-induced insomnia, but after... I think the 70th-ish hour of uninterrupted consciousness, I went online and discovered that some parahumans didn't ever sleep, and that I was probably one of them.

Being as I was on Hour God Only Knows by now, I'd upgraded 'probably' to 'definitely.'

Still, despite my being a super insomniac, I didn't show up at the Dallon household until 12:30. I'd panicked, realized I should  _ probably _ throw in a quick shower before I entered the home of my... currently  _ only friend,  _ and  _ then _ realized that I shouldn't let such identifying details as my license plate be seen in the driveway of one of New Wave's houses, and so ended up parking at the nearby playground and walking the rest of the distance on foot.

"Oh, wow, you have.  _ Way _ more hair then I was expecting," Vicky said, opening the front door.

"You've known me for  _ how long _ , again?"

"This is the first time I've seen you without that hat!" she protested, planting her hands on her hips. "Alright, c'mon in. I talked to Mom earlier, so she's got some contracts ready."

She wasn't the only one who was seeing the other in a wholly novel outfit. I, for one, had never seen her outside of her Glory Girl costume, and seeing her now in the much more casual combo of jeans and a t-shirt was...

I was reminded of an old lesbian lament- "do I want to kiss her, or  _ be _ her?"

It was less fun when the "do I want to  _ be _ her" question made my chest ache, like someone had threaded a rosebush through a marlinspike and quilted my ribcage with it, but honestly I was kinda getting used to having my emotions physically sandpaper my being every now and then.

It was just... Yeah, she looked pretty in her Glory Girl dress with the high boots and all the glitz and glamor but  _ this _ , this much more casual outfit... It felt more  _ real _ , for lack of a better word. Less artifice- I'd never be the beautiful woman in the dress, but I could potentially be the sleepy-looking one in jeans and a t-shirt. It was... "humanizing" felt like the wrong word, but I couldn't think of a right one.

"Ah, you must be Rose," Mrs. Dallon said as Vicky led me into the kitchen. The house had a fairly open floorplan on its first floor, with no real dividing walls, just a flat threshold and a change in the flooring where the combination kitchen/dining room transitioned into a living room. The walls were either exterior walls, or abutted the garage and stairwell; overall, it was somewhat t-shaped from where I could see it, but when I'd walked in, I  _ had _ noticed a secondary den/sitting room on the opposite side of the stairwell from the hallway I'd walked down. Out of curiosity, I glanced at where the interior wall would be, if it was there... and it wasn't. Totally open floorplan. "Please, sit down." Oh, right, she's still talking.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, positioned such that she had an excellent view of pretty much everything that could happen on the first floor, and dressed less casually than Vicky- either she had somewhere slightly formal to be, after this, or this was simply how she dressed on her days off...

...or, alternatively, she considered "meeting a new cape and talking business" to be a formal occasion, and dressed for the part, in a well-fitted button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a suit jacket draped over the back of the chair next to her. I seated myself quickly; if Victoria  _ raised _ the question of "do I want to kiss her, or  _ be _ her," then Mrs. Dallon hit me in the face with it like it was a fastball.

"Now, Victoria tells me you're some manner of healer," Mrs. Dallon said. Oh thank god, please talk business, I  _ really _ would like to stop thinking about how attractive my friend's mom i-  _ FUCK! _ "Fortunately for you, our exclusivity contract with the PRT means we have a  _ lot _ of offers left on the table." Quite literally- there was a  _ lot _ of paper scattered all over the table. "You can more or less take your pick, but I'd recommend a more recent one; they're less likely to have found an alternative by now."

"Alright, makes sense so far," I said, nodding my head. "Do, ah, any of the offers jump out at you as recent, well-paying, and  _ not _ an obvious 'didn't read the contract' trap?"

"In point of fact..." She lifted a particular sheet of paper. "I've got a favorite candidate right here, from just two days ago. A company called... Citadel Construction. They make Endbringer shelters, and they had an accident quite recently that hospitalized many of their employees. How does that sound as a first outing?"

"Sounds good to me," I said, nodding.

"They don't seem to have a specified price," she continued, lowering the sheet so she could read it. "...Tell you what. I'll negotiate a good price and whatever terms you care to specify on your behalf, in exchange for a... let's say, ten percent commission."

"I have no context whatsoever for that number, but sure, that sounds completely reasonable to me," I said. "So long as we're talking about a one-off job and not a long-term contract."

"It's a one-off, I'm certain," Carol said. "Alright, well, that's all I needed from you. Victoria said she wanted to workshop costume ideas with you, I believe?"

"I did!" Vicky said, pulling me up out of the chair. "C'mon upstairs, I got some  _ plans _ ."


	3. Boots Theory

"Oh my god they fit. Holy shit. Holy  _ shit _ they actually  _ fit  _ my gigantic monster feet holy  _ shit- _ "

"It is...  _ so _ hard, to find shoes that fit," Vicky said. "Well, shoes that aren't also fuckugly or just boring and utilitarian. What, tall people don't need good-looking shoes?"

"Shhhh, shhh, I'm having a moment," I said. "Don't ruin this for me. Please."

I carefully stood up, slightly wobbly. Being... probably autistic(my parents were very resistant to the notion that there was anything 'wrong' with me, and had never gotten me tested, despite my best efforts which included straight-up asking her to get me tested for ADHD, which had not worked and had only gotten me in front of a therapist when I said the word "depression."), I had ample experience walking on the balls of my feet. I could handle this.

" _ Hell yeah _ ," I said, taking my first few steps in high heels.

"Hell yeah!"

There was a thump and a groan from the other side of the hallway.

"It's past noon, Sleeping Beauty!" Vicky called out, opening the door. "I know it's Saturday, but  _ come on! _ "

More groaning.

"Sister likes to sleep in, huh?" I asked.

"No, that's my dad," Vicky said, closing the door. "Anyhow, I have a list of the places I buy from. We can look through catalogues in a bit, see what fits your style, what doesn't. I...  _ strongly _ recommend you  _ do not _ incorporate high heels into your costume. I know they look good, but  _ please _ pick something practical. Like a pair of boots."

"Ah, right, that, costuming," I said, nodding, and walking over towards my backpack. "Alright, I happen to have a baseline that I happen to very much like,  _ so _ ..."

I picked it up, unzipped it, and pulled out the mask, putting it on, before pulling out the rest of the suit and starting to slip into it.

"...Wow, you do  _ not _ like making my job easy, huh?" Vicky asked. "Your ideal baseline costume is a fucking  _ military surplus NBC suit _ ."

"Hey, you recognize it!"

"Well, yeah, the whole 'military surplus chic' thing is actually kinda common," Vicky said. "For patrolling vigilantes, it's not a great idea, on account anyone willing to invest in military surplus can be assumed to know what kinda message they're sending, and military surplus sends the message of 'I'm gonna straight-up kill you,' and that sorta abrogates the general 'gentlemen's agreement' most capes have going that we'll usually make a token effort to not  _ kill _ each other. But... Well, you seem more like a hero-aligned rogue than a patrolling vigilante, so I guess that'll be fine."

"Also, my power works on myself," I added. "I'm not completely sure, but I  _ think _ I'm effectively unkillable."

"Oh! Wow, okay, that's actually a  _ really _ strong power. So, uh, thought up a name yet?"

"I have, actually!" I said. "Ouroboros!"

"...Rose, can I be honest and also mean?"

"Go ahead."

"If you wear a hazmat suit and call yourself Snake and talk in that deep-ass voice of yours, people  _ are _ going to think you're a guy. It's... I'm sorry, but if you want to be read as unambiguously feminine, you  _ really _ need to reconsider some things."

"Hey, Miss Militia runs around in military gear, and  _ she _ reads as unambiguously feminine."

"Yes, because she has her hair completely uncovered, and her costume is very figure-hugging. I mean... Okay,  _ if _ you are  _ dead set _ on dressing in an NBC suit and being 'Ouroboros'... Okay, I have an idea. Something I stole from the cosplay community."

"Which would be?" I asked, slipping back out of the NBC suit. It had the benefit of being designed to go on over my clothes, which was nice.

"How do you feel about wearing fake tits under your costume?"

"...I honestly don't know," I said, frowning. "On the one hand, the fact that I  _ don't _ have tits is something I'm pretty dysphoric about, but on the other hand, it feels... kinda gratuitous? ...Eh, fuck it, let's give it a shot, see how it works."

"Well, I don't actually have that on hand," Vicky said. "We... might have to wait a few days while we figure that out. And, well, the healing contract is coming up soon, so we might not  _ have _ those few days... Alright, plan B." She walked over to her dresser, and opened up a drawer, pulling out-

"Are you seriously going to make me wear a bra stuffed with socks?"

"It's a temporary measure. Just... Try it on."

"Are you  _ sure? _ "

"Relax, it's clean."

"Look, I mean, like- okay, I don't really know how to say this,  _ but,  _ I just feel... I don't know, it's stupid as hell, but part of me is convinced that I'm faking it and this is just some weird fetish thing. And lord, is this not helping. So I think... Let's maybe hold off for a minute?"

"Alright, well... Okay, new idea. How attached are you to the suit having a hood? You've got plenty of hair to work with- and it's  _ very _ nice hair, by the way- so if that's on display..."

"...Maybe," I said. "Iunno,  _ that _ feels less 'gratuitous and potentially fetishy' and more just... like it'd look stupid."

"Bluh. This is  _ hard _ . Sorry you have to deal with this, hon," Vicky said, closing the dresser drawer before sitting down on the edge of her bed. I popped a squat of my own, leaning my back against the wall. She glanced at another wall, on the other side of which was probably her sister's room.

...Her sister.

We were both thinking about it, huh?

Well, if she's thinking about it, then clearly Panacea probably  _ can _ poke me and make it all better. Boop, instant d-cups, just add water. But  _ would _ she? That was apparently the question.

But more importantly, did I  _ want _ her to? I had to admit, being called Rose and addressed with feminine pronouns was... euphoric, honestly. It was amazing, and I loved it, and okay maybe I was a little more sure of this than I was previously, but... was this really, truly, exactly what I wanted? For the rest of my life?

I wasn't so sure. And even if I  _ was... _ Well, I have work in five hours. What, am I just gonna walk in with a rack and act like nothing's up? Or maybe I'd do the thing I keep hearing you're supposed to never do, which is wear a chest binder while doing manual labor. Maybe... Maybe one day, when I don't have to... but not today.

Vicky turned back to meet my gaze, and I shook my head before she could say anything.

She sighed, nodding.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Thanks for being a friend," I said quietly. "I... really need one, turns out."

"You want a hug?"

I inhaled sharply through my teeth.

"Touch-averse?" Vicky asked. "I hear that's common with Strikers."

"No, no, I'd fucking  _ love _ a hug, it's just... I'm worried I might make it awkward," I said. "Considering that, uh. Well, while I am definitely not a dude, I  _ am _ very much still into women, and you happen to be a particularly  _ attractive _ woman, and, uh..."

"Eh, it's fine," Vicky said, standing up and rolling her shoulders, which did interesting things to her chest- which sent yet another spike of ache through my chest, like I was a vampire and the beautiful ingenue had driven a wooden stake through my ribs. "If you're happy to see me, well, I'll choose to interpret that as a compliment."

"I'd say I'll hold you to that, but actually can I take that back, holy shit, why did I say that, oh my god."

She snickered. "Alright, y'big nerd, bring it in."

I stood up as she stepped forward, and then I leaned into the hug, wrapping my arms around her.

It was... honestly, the best hug I'd ever had in my life. She was strong, with a firm, tight grip, that just  _ squeezed _ my errant soul back into my body. She was also  _ soft _ , her chest pressing tightly into mine in ways that alleviated- if only partially- the ache of emptiness.

Warmth rushed through me. I rested my chin on her shoulder, and squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the pricking at the corners of my eyes. I'd melt in some other way, just... not like that.

She seemed to pick up on the fact that I needed a particularly long hug, and adjusted her grip slightly, but otherwise didn't let go.

"Thanks," I said quietly, as one of her hands came up to gently stroke my hair. "I... I needed this."

"I can tell," Vicky said. "I always forget how things are for boys, and those who have to pretend to be them. You're...  _ really _ touch-starved, aren't you."

"...yeah..."

"I'll fix that," she said gently. "What else are friends for?"

"Damnit," I said. "You're gonna make me cry."

"It's okay to cry, hon," Vicky said. "It's just us here."

I didn't respond, as she continued stroking my hair, and holding me tight.

It would come to an end soon. I knew that. But... for this moment... I'd just enjoy it.

"You give really good hugs," I said. "You're so strong, and... I just, I feel so  _ safe _ , here."

She made a tiny little noise in the base of her throat.

"You're my hero," I said quietly.

She squeezed a bit tighter after that. It hurt just a little, but... in a good way. She leaned into me, too, her face burying itself in my neck and hair. A shudder ran down my spine, and my shoulders seized up.

"You're a good friend, Rose," she said, finally. "Don't ever feel like you're not. I know it might feel like I'm taking pity on you, or something like that, but... I'm not. I promise. You're just... I treasure our friendship. I really do."

"Damnit, who started chopping onions in here?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes as I smiled.

"Fucking dork," she said, patting me on the back a few times. "Okay. Okay, c'mon, we can... We can hug some more later, let's get back to work on your costume, okay?" She let go of me, and reluctantly, I let go of her.

The moment was nice while it lasted, but... we did have work to do.


	4. Asklepion

"See, that's the thing, kobolds  _ do _ have twelve age categories!" I said. "Those twelve age categories are laid out explicitly in Races Of The Dragon, which I might add is  _ also _ the book where the Dragonwrought feat was published, so it's not like this is some eclectic, helter-skelter mish-mash of seventeen books written by eighty people."

"Ah,  _ but, _ that's the  _ Draconomicon's _ definition of a True Dragon," Vicky countered. "The definition presented in Races Of The Dragon  _ explicitly supersedes _ the Draconomicon's definition, and  _ that  _ definition has  _ nothing _ to do with age categories! Instead, it provides an exhaustive list of True Dragons, a list that Dragonwrought Kob-"

"Oh my god, who  _ cares?!" _ Shielder said, in a voice like a bowling ball spontaneously house-ruled into a game of Jenga.

It was 1:13 AM on Sunday. Yesterday, I'd tried on high heels for the first time, and gotten my Ouroboros costume sorted out- a suggestion had been made of a robe like Panacea's, but ultimately discarded in favor of differentiating myself from her. Right now, we were back at the diner, and as far as everyone else was concerned, I was Joe- or 'Mister Joseph' as the manager, Terry, semi-affectionately called me. After tasting the truth so strongly, I realized how much it hurt to go back to living the old lie.

"Sorry, but... god, get a  _ room, _ you two," Shielder said. "You've been arguing about the finer points of pretending to be an elf for ten minutes. Give it a rest already."

I picked up the mop, and dragged the wheeled bucket back into the washing room. I'd already mopped the floor, anyhow. I'd just... chill in the break room until they left.

\---

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. 3:06 AM. Text from Vicky- we'd exchanged numbers yesterday. My shift was over, and I was back home, on my laptop, reading a rulebook for a game I'd probably never play because I have one friend total and also I don't actually like RPGs.

Vicky: im so sorry my cousin is a fucking asshole   
Vicky: he got an earful once we left   
Vicky: fucking asshole   
Rose: Eh. It's about what I'm accustomed to.   
Rose: Not everyone can be so interesting as us. Some people have to be normal.   
Vicky: do they have to tho   
Rose: Well, no, but it's not like we can really do much about normal people existing.   
Vicky: i can however do something about my fucking twerp of a cousin being a dick to my friend   
Rose: Fair enough, although. Honestly, I don't think it'll actually accomplish much. None of the Pelhams like me, I'm pretty sure. They all think I'm annoying, Shielder's just young enough to be open about it.   
Vicky: i mean im not saying ill make him like you just that ill teach him some basic fucking manners so that he doesnt yell at fucking food service workers again because holy SHIT even setting aside how rude that is it is ALSO a fuckin pr NIGHTMARE waiting to happen   
Vicky: also please do not tell anyone that eric came into your diner and told you to shut up   
Rose: I thought New Wave was all about accountability.   
Rose: (:3c)   
Vicky: youre such a bitch you know that   
Rose: Well I never said the Pelhams were *wrong* to dislike me.   
Rose: Also I checked the RotD pdf and noticed that DW Kobolds each have a specific race of dragon that theyre tied to.   
Vicky: oh my god are you still thinking about that   
Vicky: what a champ   
Rose: So while the RAW jury is out, one could extrapolate that into "a DW Kobold with Gold Dragon blood qualifies as a Gold Dragon for all intents and purposes, and their kids would be Half-Dragons."   
Vicky: question   
Vicky: what happens if two dwk with gold blood fuck   
Rose: It is a common misconception that Kobolds are descended from Dragons. It is, in fact, the other way around, and a majority of Dragons are in fact born to DW Kobold parents.   
Vicky: ...   
Vicky: fuck now i want to play dnd with you   
Vicky: you cant do this to me rose   
Vicky: youre turning me into a nerd this isnt fair   
Vicky: im supposed to be too cool and sexy to give a shit about this nerd garbage what the hell   
Rose: Victoria the first conversation you started with me after nine months apart was about robots and then afterwards you were perfectly happy to talk about paladins and magic spiders and property law.   
Rose: I didn't "turn" you into anything.   
Vicky: lies and slander   
Vicky: *libel   
Rose: If it's written, it's- fuck.   
Vicky: written fuck is called cybersex actually but good try   
Rose: Did you know that you are also such a bitch?   
Vicky: well yes   
Vicky: how else would we be friends?   
Vicky: <3   
Rose: You're the worst and I treasure our friendship.   
Rose: <3   
Vicky: anyhow one last thing before i turn in for the night   
Vicky: well two   
Vicky: one re:eric   
Rose: All is forgiven. Middle school was a dark time for everyone.   
Vicky: cool beans   
Vicky: two re:wanna hang out sometime later today after you wake up   
Rose: Actually I'm a Noctis Case. I don't sleep. Ever.   
Vicky: oh okay   
Vicky: in that case swing by whenever and meet my sister   
Vicky: shes cool youll like her   
Rose: When you say that, do you mean she's a weird bitch like you and I?   
Vicky: that is exactly what i mean and you know it   
Rose: Hell yeah   
Vicky: okay im gonna crash now   
Vicky: night   
Rose: See you in a little while.

\---

"Oh, hey."

I showed up at 10 AM, wearing a scarf Vicky had loaned me. It was a pale yellow- her favorite color, apparently, although she usually preferred more vibrant shades. Still didn't stop me from calling her a narcissist, after which she demonstrated just how gently she could punch me in the shoulder. The scarf itself was a four foot square of fabric; I wore it folded in half, around my neck, with the ends tied in the front under the main bulk slash peak.

The top edge of the scarf, I'd carefully arranged to come up to my chin, because I was, for some reason, rather self-conscious about my throat and obvious, well-developed Adam's Apple.

Answering the door was one Amy "Panacea" Dallon, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. She was lightly tanned, like myself, as opposed to New Wave's usual near-albino pale, with freckles that looked like she'd gotten her makeup done by Jackson Pollock, with short-ish, curly hair in a golden brown not unlike my own. She was short and fat, soft all over with few hard edges- especially not with her current outfit.

Admittedly, I didn't want to be her- I enjoyed being tall and skinny for the practical benefits, and also I just thought it looked good on me. But I sure as hell wanted to pick her up, carry her to the nearest couch, bed, or bearskin rug in front of a fireplace, and cuddle her like a teddy bear for hours. And, well, maybe also kiss her a little. More than a little. Okay, a lot. Look, it's not my fault literally all of the Dallons are hot. Even Mark, with that roguishly disheveled stubble of his that made me all too aware of the uses that mouth of his must have.

"Hey, I'm Rose," I said. "Ouroboros, in costume, but... well, I'm not. C'n I come in?"

"Yeah, Vicky said you were coming," Amy said, turning and stepping back. She looked tired; it was ten AM, but it was also ten AM on the weekend, and she was... what, sixteen? Fifteen? Some tiredness was in order. "Come on."

She led me up the stairs, and into...

...why was there a second living room upstairs?

Amy sat down on the couch, picked up a Wiimote, and went back to playing...

"Super Paper Mario, huh?" I asked, sitting down next to her, a sociable two foot gap between us.

"Yeah."

Well, that's not much to go off of, but hey, if there's one thing I know I can do, it's talk enough for two people.

"I played through to... I think it was World 5?" I said. "The one with the cavemen and the Floro Sapiens. The disc got corrupted, though, and I couldn't get past the block puzzle combination lock thingy. You know what I'm talking about?"

"No, I don't," Amy said. "I haven't beaten it before, and I'm only on World 4. The, uh. Outer space one, with Squirps."

"Oh, that's the dungeon you're doing right now. Yeah, I... don't remember this bit very well. You're on your own."

"Oh no, what an insurmountable obstacle," Amy said. "How will I ever make it through this ultimately not very difficult game without the help of Vicky's latest self-absorbed fairweather friend? By the way, do me a solid and give her the scarf back before you disappear from her life. That was a birthday gift from me."

"...Well that went in a weird direction," I said. "I'm. Not sure how to respond to that."

"Good, then shut up," Amy said.

What the  _ hell _ was wrong with her? I get that I'm not the most likeable person in the world, but usually it takes more than two minutes of polite surface-level small talk about their interests for most people to get this hostile. I mean, it took Shielder a solid ten minutes of tag-team Dungeons & Debating Third Edition to tell me to fuck off. This, right here? This was almost a personal record.

What  _ was _ she bringing to the table that I didn't know about? No way in hell it's just  _ me _ pissing her off.

"...God," Amy muttered, breaking me out of my reverie. "Just get it over with so I can say no and you can leave and go complain online about how much of a mean bitch Panacea is."

"Beg pardon?" I asked. I wasn't  _ expecting _ her to go into a rant about exactly what's pissing her off right now, but hey, I wasn't about to say no.

"You think I don't have basic pattern recognition? Every  _ goddamn _ time I meet some friendly new face with a very feminine name and a very unfeminine appearance, it ends with them asking me for the same  _ fucking _ thing, and I'm sick of it! I'm a person, damnit, not infrastructure! So  _ go ahead! _ Ask away!  _ Quit wasting my time!" _

I blinked a few times. That was... Well. Hrm.

"Alright," I said, standing up and walking towards the stairs. "Tell Vicky I said hi."

I had  _ actually _ been going to ask Amy for tips on a cape healer's bedside manner, but after that... unprompted outburst... I think I'm better off figuring it out on my own.


	5. Snake In The Grass

Thomas Calvert, the owner of Citadel Construction, the company that built Endbringer shelters and hired me to heal the victims of a construction accident, was a parahuman.

"It's good to see you, Ouroboros," Thomas said. He looked like the greasy, emaciated lovechild of Benedict Cumberbatch and Eliezer Yudkowsky. Well, "love" was probably the wrong word. Smugchild? Sure, let's go with that.

Although, maybe I should ease off on making fun of him in my head. Dude had a trigger event- his life's been hard enough already. A trigger event that involved, as far as I can tell... drinking something that tasted exquisitely awful... not very long  _ after _ he shot a man. Shit, was his trigger event a suicide attempt?

"Likewise, Mr. Calvert," I said, before letting go of his hand, the handshake concluded. I was wearing thick rubber gloves along with my full-body NBC suit, so... hm, okay... "Apologies for the gloves. My power doesn't like it when I touch people and  _ don't _ heal them." There. Ass covered 100%. Vicky mentioned something about Strikers generally being touch-averse, so I can pass off the suit as a preventative "don't touch me" measure. Probably.

I was surprised, a little. Sure, I knew my power would show me every bad thing that's ever happened to a person when I touched them, but... well, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that trigger events made the cut. Or that I was able to instantly recognize them in people I didn't already know were capes, like Vicky.

"Would you mind explaining to me  _ what _ your healing entails?" he asked. Ah, excellent, an opportunity to authoritatively tell him how my power works, which I will abuse to lie to him about my abilities so that he doesn't realize I know he's a cape.

"It's fairly simple, really," I said. "I touch people and can push them backwards through time. This heals the injuries they picked up... and also wipes the  _ memories _ they've accumulated. I trust you received the notice about journal entries and documentation?"

"I did, yes," he said, nodding. "I was already aware of the basics of your power. I suppose I want to know, more... what limitations you have."

"Well, it doesn't work through any non-porous clothing," I lied. "It works best through skin to skin contact, but it should still work just fine through a cotton glove and a hospital gown."

"And what is your limit on how far you can push someone back?" he asked.

"I... honestly don't know," I lied again. I wasn't  _ completely _ sure, but I would be surprised if I couldn't push people as far back along their timelines as I could see, which was as far back as their days as a zygote. I have yet to push anyone or any _ thing _ back that far, though, because I am reasonably certain that it would simply be an inventive form of murder. "At least a week, though, so I  _ can _ still complete this job."

"Fair enough," he said. "Right, well. Let's get on with it, shall we?"

* * *

The healing itself went somewhat smoothly; after the first construction worker- a young Mexican guy who couldn't be older than 25 named Manny- was healed and brought up to speed, he was more than willing to help bring the others up to speed after they were healed.

I was done after less than an hour, having healed sixteen construction workers, nine of whom only had a few broken bones, another five were paralyzed, and the remaining two were comatose and almost dead.

"I'm given to understand that you have an arrangement with Brandish?" Thomas inquired. "How did that happen, incidentally?"

"I'm an independent healer, and Panacea's the only other healer in town," I said with a shrug. "I talked to Brandish... and now I get Panacea's leftovers. A little humiliating, but it's better than minimum wage at Burger King, so..." I shrugged again. "Still, if you happen to know another broker who might work out a little better for me?"

"Sorry, no," he said, shaking his head. "These men are employees, rather than contractors, specifically to  _ avoid _ dealing with brokers as much as possible. I'm afraid I can't help you much there."

"Ah, well," I said with a third shrug. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mister Calvert. Although, and I say this with respect, I dearly hope I'll never have to see you again."

He grinned. "Yes, the old doctor's joke. Unfortunately, things  _ do _ happen. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again before the year is over."

"Mm, fair enough. Here, my phone number for the Ouroboros business," I said, taking out one of my new business cards and handing it over to him. Wait, shit, that was three cards, goddamn gloves. Whatever. "Goodbye, Mister Calvert."

* * *

"I wish we could've done a real sleepover," Vicky said.

"I know, but... well, practical concerns," I said. "My parents wouldn't have let me, for one, which is why I told them I'm just not getting a day off this week... and two, I'm a Noctis Case, remember? I don't sleep."

"Hang on, is that  _ don't _ sleep, or  _ can't _ sleep?"

"Well, can't," I said. "So, y'know. No matter how late you stay up, you'd eventually pass out... and then I'd have eight hours to pass on my own before you woke up again."

"Ah," she said quietly. "...Yeah, I'm starting to see some flaws in my original plan, now that you mention 'em."

"So, yeah, that's why I'm leaving at midnight."

"I get it, it's just...  _ bluh _ ."

We were lounging around in her room, at 11:12 on Thursday. Both of us lounged on her, frankly, oversized bed, with myself sitting more-or-less like a normal person, and her laying flat on her back with her legs straight up, propped up against the wall.

"Would a hug make you feel better?" I asked.

"Yeah, although you  _ do _ realize you can ask for a hug just  _ whenever _ , right?" Vicky asked. "You don't need some excuse or special circumstance for it."

"...Fair," I said with a shrug. "Alright, well, bring it i-  _ whoa! _ "

She'd grabbed my leg and pulled, and after a few very confusing moments, I was face-down on the bed, with Vicky on top of me, arms wrapped around me.

"Surprise judo, bitch," Vicky said with an audible grin, pressing herself firmly into my back. "You wanna be the big spoon, you gotta  _ wrestle _ for it!"

"No fair, you've got super-strength," I complained.

"Not right now I don't," she said. "I turned my power off. It's a very convenient feature, really."

"Nngh... Alright,  _ fine _ ," I said, grabbing her spot in the timeline and freezing her in place, slowly wriggling myself free of her grip, and then- maintaining my grip on her to keep her frozen- slipped around to pin  _ her _ down, pulling her arms behind her back and squeezing them down against her back with my chest. I wrapped my own arms around her stomach, and then finally let her timeline resume.

"I- wh-" she said, suddenly processing what had just happened.

"I win," I whispered into her ear...

...before I was unceremoniously thrown off of her back and to the floor.

"Whoof, that was surprising," Vicky said as I picked myself up, groaning. "I hadn't realized you could do that with your power."

"It's a neat trick, but if you  _ had _ been super strong, I wouldn't really have been able to do it," I said. "My power doesn't rewind, like, the  _ position _ and  _ pose _ of your body, just its condition. Which is weird and I don't really get it but whatever.  _ I _ didn't know you knew judo. Or... do you?"

"Bitch, I am a fucking  _ black belt _ in Judo," Vicky said proudly. "More specifically, a second degree black belt. Or 'nidan' in Japanese. All the New Wave kids got put in judo lessons starting on our sixth birthdays, so it's not just me- Crystal's actually got a fourth degree black belt. What about you, you know any martial arts?"

"Uh, I had a yellow belt in taekwondo back in elementary school, and my dad taught me little bits and pieces of karate when I was a kid, but... Honestly, all I really remember is how to properly make a fist," I said, demonstrating such, as I climbed back onto the bed. "Which feels to me like such bog-standard basic knowledge that it bugs me whenever I read something where someone's learning how to fight and they have to be taught that, like, to me that's what you learn when you're  _ four _ ."

"Huh," Vicky said. "Anyhow, I think you should let me teach you some judo sometime. It'll be fun!  _ And _ it'll be a great way to synergize with your power, too. Just flip a motherfucker to the ground and zip tie his wrists at your leisure, since apparently you're Clockblocker 2 on top of being a healer."

"Hrm... Well, telling my parents I'm taking judo lessons  _ would _ provide me with more excuses to get out of the house... Alright, sure thing."

"Hell yeah," she said, throwing her arms around me and hugging me tightly, and then suddenly suplexing me into the bed. "Lesson one! Never let your guard down!" She let go, and watched as I groaned and righted myself. "...You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck. "But, uh, let's maybe put a pin in the spontaneous judo for a while, yeah? So, changing the subject: you know shit about cape culture, I'm presuming?"

"What? How could you have  _ possibly known _ that I, Victoria 'Glory Girl' Dallon, member of New Wave, a family team composed  _ entirely of superheroes _ , know a thing or two about cape culture?"

"Smartass."

"Perhaps."

"So let's say that, hypothetically, the part of my power that lets me see every bad thing that's ever happened to a person also reveals to me whether or not someone is a parahuman. What... what are the ethics of that situation?"

"Obviously, you don't tell anyone about it," Vicky said. "I know New Wave doesn't do secret identities, but... Well, okay, I guess I get to give you a crash course on cape etiquette. Some people call it the unwritten rules, or the unspoken rules. So,  _ basically _ ... we don't try to kill anyone. Y'know? Most of the time, what cape fights happen over... It's not worth your life, or someone else's. We try to keep it nonlethal, because when someone gets killed, that escalates things pretty badly, and... it's bad. When one cape dies, it's usually a prelude to a lot  _ more _ than just one death.

"And the reason secret identities are so sacrosanct," she continued, "to the point where the authorities don't unmask most villains when they get arrested, is because most capes aren't bulletproof, and if you know their name and where they live, you can just... firebomb their house, or kidnap their kids, or whatever. So unmasking someone publicly means opening them and their family up to assassination or kidnapping attempts, and as far as cape culture is generally concerned, that's attempted murder."

"So why do the authorities not unmask villains?" I asked.

"Because if villains think that, if they surrender, they're gonna be opened up to assassination attempts on themselves or their families, then they're not going to surrender," Vicky said. "They're gonna fight their way out or die trying."

"Okay, makes sense so far," I said. "Don't tell anyone if you learn someone's secret identity, because that can get them and their family killed."

"Exactly."

"Okay, cool."

"Yeah, like, the thing about cape fights- about fights in general, really- is that you usually don't win them by killing the other guy. You usually win them by making the other guy  _ run away _ ," Vicky said. "Which is why my aura is so useful- the ability to fill people with confidence or fear... That's morale, baby, and  _ that _ is what wins fights, most of the time."

"Wait, you can  _ do that? _ "

Vicky blinked a few times, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Rose. You're my friend and I love you-" My heart skipped a beat and I almost missed the rest of what she was saying. "-but you are  _ really _ oblivious about cape shit, aren't you?"

"Well  _ excuse me _ for not spending hours upon hours browsing the fucking cape side of Wikipedia," I said, folding my arms. " _ Some _ of us  _ weren't _ raised in a family of superheroes, y'know."

"...point," she admitted. "Also, you'd want the PHO wiki for cape shit."

"Nerd."

"And?"

My phone rang, and I frowned. "Alright, hang on a minute, I gotta take this." I reached into my pocket, pulling out the burner prepaid flip phone I'd gotten for Ouroboros business, flipped it open and coughed a few times before answering. "This is Ouroboros, what do you need?"

_ "I'll make this quick," _ a feminine-sounding voice on the other end said.  _ "My friend here caught a crossbow bolt, and is in urgent need of medical care. We're willing to pay you ten thousand dollars in cash to come heal him  _ now _. How does that sound to you?" _

Vicky snatched the phone from my hands, covering the microphone with her hand, and whispering in my ear. "This sounds fishy as hell. If you decide to go through with this, I  _ am _ coming with you, alright? That's non-negotiable."

"Thanks," I whispered back, as she handed me the phone back. "Sounds like a deal. Where are you?"


	6. The Fox And The Hound

"Why do you have, like, five spare NBC suits in your closet?" I asked as we suited up.

"Well,  _ originally _ I was just being considerate of your needs and preparing for the future," Vicky said. "You might get into a cape fight, or be over here and not have your costume on hand when you need it, so..."

"And the fact that they fit  _ you? _ "

"Wow, what a surprise, these mass-produced loose-fitting outfits fit  _ both _ six foot tall girls," Vicky said, flipping the hood up and over her gas mask, before fastening the front zipper. "...Hrm. Little tight in the chest, but I'll live."

"How my heart bleeds for you," I said flatly.

"...Fair point," she admitted. "Lemme just text my mom to tell her I'm taking you home... and then we can head out."

* * *

"Alright, you're gonna do all the talking," Vicky said. "The gas mask distorts my voice a little, but not enough for me to feel comfortable risking it. People in this town  _ know _ my voice. Okay,  _ capes _ in this town know my voice, I will admit that many of the non-capes know very little about me."

"...Out of curiosity, how much of you being here is because you're concerned for my well-being, and how much is because you wanted to put on a costume and go out at night  _ without _ anyone knowing who you were?" I asked.

"Hey, now."

"Oh, don't give me  _ that _ ," I said, parking the car in the parking lot of an old, abandoned block of storage units. My client had given the address, and Vicky just so happened to know exactly how to get there from her house. "That's a big part of cape culture, the secret identity, yeah? And, well, you didn't get one."

"...Okay,  _ maybe _ , but..."

"Do you have a secondary cape name you've been sitting on for a while?" I asked.

"I have a list, actually,  _ but _ ... if I'm gonna tie this to Ouroboros- and I should, because we're best friends and also wearing identical outfits- then I think... How about Ophiuchus? Y'know, the Serpent-Bearer?"

"In context?" I asked. "That's the most homoerotic thing I've heard all year. I like it."

She paused, before gently slugging me in the shoulder. "Jackass," she said affectionately. "C'mon, let's get moving."

We got out of my car- I'd taken the license plates off- and locked the doors, before making our way across the parking lot to the black van. The back door opened up, and dense smoke billowed out, giving us pause as it sank and crawled along the ground.

" _ Grue _ ," Vicky whispered, barely audible.

"Fuck. Villain?"

"Small-time," she said. "This is... probably legit, but-"

"Hey, come on," a familiar, feminine voice said from inside the van. "Grue's bleeding out, here. You  _ really _ gonna let him die?"

"Remember, you're mute," I whispered, before raising my voice. "Get him to cut the fog machine, first."

"It's not going to  _ kill _ you, you big baby," the girl said, stepping out of the back of the van and into the smoke.

She was of average height, pale and dirty-blonde, wearing a dark blue domino mask and a matching dark blue and black jumpsuit, with a jet black eye symbol barely visible on her chest. Her jumpsuit was, unlike the popular conception of a villainess' jumpsuit, not particularly figure-hugging or sexy; it was of sturdy make, with visible and thickly-reinforced seams and more than a few cargo pockets. On her feet were plain-ish military surplus combat boots, because she was not drawn by some hack at DC or Marvel who only knew how to draw women in heels.

Still, I couldn't help but admire her a little. And by 'admire' I mean 'want simultaneously to be and make out with.' That confident stance and smirk, that  _ very _ pretty face...

"...Ophiuchus, do you recognize these people?" I asked, turning to face Vicky, jostling myself out of my reverie. She looked at me and nodded. "Villains?" She nodded again. "Harmless enough that I can take their money guilt-free?" She hesitated, then nodded again. Then shrugged. "Good enough for me. Give me a lift, please."

Vicky picked me up and lifted me off of the ground, carrying me over the smoke and towards the back of the van. The villain folded her arms and rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Keep your blue britches on, girl, I'll get to it when I get to it," I said.

"...My costume is fucking  _ purple _ ," she said. "What are you, colorblind?"

"Yes," I said flatly. "Fully one in twenty people are colorblind. Now, let's see..." Vicky set me down inside the van, where I laid eyes upon a man in black, hunched over and clutching at a wound, from which he seemed to bleed mostly smoke. "So, how long ago were you shot, young man?"

"Two hours ago," the villainess said. "He's Grue, by the way. I'm Tattletale."

"Yes, yes, thank you, you've served your purpose admirably," I said, waving her off. "Now, Grue, I'm going to have to touch your bare skin for this next step. I trust you know how my power works?"

He groaned, insensate.

"Yeah, you're not gonna get through to him," Tattletale said. "Just do it."

"Very well," I said, pulling off the thick rubber glove on my left hand and grabbing his right wrist, parting what turned out to be a leather glove and a leather jacket, exposing his skin to my hand. Unnecessary in general, but I  _ did _ have a lie to keep up. "Two hours ago... So, how  _ did _ you get my number, anyh-  _ Whoa! _ " I let go of Grue as soon as I'd healed him, on account he was flipping out and trying to punch me. "Jesus the christ, calm  _ down _ , man!"

"...I'm sorry, did you just say 'jesus  _ the _ christ?'" Tattletale asked.

"I saw it on Twitter once and thought it was really funny," I said defensively. "Anyway. You're  _ fine _ now, Grue."

"The  _ hell _ happened?" he asked, yanking his wrist out of my grasp and probing at the gap in his leather jacket, the wound having been replaced with healthy, whole black skin.

"You got tagged by Shadow Stalker," Tattletale said. "Y'know, the vigilante with the crossbow who hates you because your power doesn't play nice with hers?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you meant the  _ other _ Shadow Stalker, who represents the  _ Lollipop Guild!" _

"Shut up, both of you," I said. "How did you get my number, Tattletale?"

"Oh, we paid our friends at Citadel a visit recently," Tattletale said, smirking. "We had a home renovation project, and wanted to borrow some hammers and a table saw, you know how it is. Don't worry, insurance'll cover it. Borrowed the boss-man's rolodex, while we were at it, and found your card in it."

"...Yyyyyeeah, I think you should probably just shut up and pay us now, before my conscience gets the better of me," I said.

"Right, payment," Tattletale said, climbing back into the van. The smoke was dissipating, thankfully, and I could see a lot better. Tattletale walked across the floor of the van to the driver's seat, pulling out a... lunchbox? "Catch. I said  _ catch _ , dumbass. That's fucking pathetic."

"Well I'm sorry an aluminum brick is hard to grab out of the air with no warning!" I said, picking the lunchbox up off the ground and cracking it open. "Oh my god that's a lot of money." More specifically, it was a bundle of a hundred individual $100 bills, wrapped in that distinctive treasury-issue strap. "Well, I can't say it was a  _ pleasure _ doing business with you, but I do enjoy having more money. Goodbye."

* * *

As soon as the doors shut, Vicky was talking again. "Open it up again and let's check  _ real _ thoroughly. I don't trust villains to have  _ not _ put a tracking device in there."

"Alright," I said, opening the lunchbox and taking a moment to enjoy the sight of a ten thousand dollar brick of cash. Was it entirely probable that Tattletale had just put a pair of Benjamins on the top and bottom, and filled out the rest of the bundle with a bunch of ones, leaving me with only three hundred dollars instead of the agreed upon ten thousand? Yeah, probably. But...

"Either quit it with the internal monologue or just hand it over," Vicky said.

"Sorry," I said, passing her the lunchbox.

"Okay, let's take the money  _ out _ first, and feel around inside the lunchbox," she muttered, doing exactly that. It was a simple thing, really, made of stamped aluminum and painted on the outside. It was Protectorate merch, funnily enough, with scenes of Armsmaster painted all over sides and lid, and stamped outward just a little to give them some more depth. "...Alright, no bugs... let's resolve to throw this thing in a dumpster, just in case. And now to check the bills."

"And make sure we got paid enough?" I asked.

"To make sure they didn't  _ stick a tracking chip in it _ ," Vicky said, pulling off the paper band and fanning out the bills, before starting to rifle through them. "A _ ha _ , what's  _ this? _ " She found a folded little piece of paper, tucked deep within the stack, and carefully unfolded it, starting to read it aloud. "Help, I was kidnapped by the supervillain Coil and am being forced to do his bidding or else he'll kill me or worse." She paused, mildly taken aback. "He made me shoot Grue myself so we had a pretext to hire you, as a test to see where your boundaries were and how useful you'd be to Coil. Coil  _ also _ made us rob Citadel Construction, with very explicit instructions."

"Thomas Calvert, the owner of Citadel Construction, is a parahuman," I said.

"Shit, you think  _ he's _ Coil, and set up this robbery to get your number into the hands of his minions without raising questions?" Vicky asked.

"Well, also for insurance fraud reasons," I said. "Those ten thousand dollars had to come from somewhere."

"Mm, point. Let's see..." She cleared her throat. "Here's my private phone number... Text me if you're interested in helping me get rid of that asshole. PS: He has moles in the PRT and the BBPD, so please go to literally anyone else for help." Vicky sighed. "Y'know, the part of me that was raised by my mom  _ really _ wants to brag about 'I told you so' and how the PRT is a corrupt institution and New Wave was  _ right _ ... But the rest of me is realizing that if we do anything about this- and we  _ have _ to- then I'm gonna have to admit that I lied to my mother, and..."

"Ah."

"She's kind of, uh.  _ Very _ paranoid, y'know? Like, more than most publicly out capes are. So, um..."

"...I'm sorry," I said. "And also, I'm here for you. And..." I tried to tap my chin, and then remembered I was wearing a gas mask- or, well, was reminded I was wearing a gas mask. "...Well, I bet we could tell your mom about this without having to mention that you were involved."

"...You're my hero," she said. "Alright! Well, let's go home."


	7. Bread And Butter

"So, last night, I was called on my Ouroboros phone, and offered a rush job for healing someone," I said. "Suspicious, but someone was probably dying, so I resolved to fix that  _ before _ I asked too many questions. Well, then I get there, and it's two supervillains, Tattletale and Grue. According to Victoria, petty thieves who haven't seriously hurt anyone yet. I ask them how they got my number, they say they robbed Citadel Construction and stole the boss' rolodex. Then I heal Grue, Tattletale pays me, and hidden in the money was this note right here."

I laid the note on her desk, oriented so Carol could read it. The two of us were in her office; it was Friday, around noon, and I'd been fortunate enough to arrange a quick meeting earlier this morning. Admittedly, as payment, I  _ had _ been obligated to bring her lunch, but that wasn't really much of an issue for me. I suddenly had more money than I knew what to do with, and nothing better to do with my time than stop by Subway for a few sandwiches and bags of chips.

"...Hmph," Carol muttered.

"And, incidentally, Thomas Calvert, the owner of Citadel Construction, is a parahuman," I said. "It's my suspicion that he's the villain Coil mentioned in this note."

"So, what have you done with this information so far?" Carol asked.

"Well, I thought long and hard about who I'm supposed to pass the buck to, and then after half a second of that I immediately realized the obvious answer was  _ you _ ," I said. For "some reason," Vicky seemed to have a strong reaction to being called 'my hero' or something like it. I was kinda banking on her mom having the same sort of reaction, here; implying that she was the most trustworthy and experienced hero in town, and all that.

"Really? Me, and  _ not _ my sister?" Carol asked. "It's  _ Lady Photon _ who leads New Wave, after all."

I grimaced under my mask. How do I avoid mentioning my day job...

"Alright, fine, you're the only adult hero with whom I'm professionally acquainted, and you don't seem completely untrustworthy," I said. "Damn lawyers. Can never just accept the flattery."

"Guilty as charged," she said primly, closing her eyes and lifting her nose. "Now, I have more  _ germane _ questions. First and foremost... how do you  _ know _ Thomas Calvert is a parahuman?"

"As an accessory power to my temporal healing, I can see every bad thing that's ever happened to someone whenever I touch them," I said. "Such as when shaking hands."

"...And trigger events qualify?" Carol asked.

"Considering that they are more often than not the worst thing that ever happens to a person, yes, they absolutely qualify," I said. "The flood of hormones and neurochemicals and the brain actively restructuring itself... Yes. Yes, they unquestionably qualify. I can tell when the last time you stubbed your toe is, it can  _ absolutely _ pick up on life-changing brain trauma."

Carol grunted. "Well. This is..." She sighed. "You don't like making my life easy, do you?"

"Your daughter said the same thing to me while helping me pick a costume," I said with a smirk. "Let me know if there's anything you need me to do with this. Just be aware that I  _ also _ have a day job, and may be unavailable most nights."

"I'll keep that in mind. If that's all?"

"That is. A pleasure doing business with you."

* * *

"Come with me if you want to live," I said in a terrible Austrian accent, rolling down the window.

"You're a fucking dork," Tattletale said flatly, rolling her eyes. Out of costume, she was simply a pretty young girl with blonde hair and a little band of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Also across her shoulders, too, which were bare thanks to the tank top she wore as a concession to what these pansy-ass yankees called 'heat.'

It was Monday afternoon; Brandish had cautioned against moving too quickly, for fear Coil might realize something was amiss. Vicky and I had volunteered to pick Lisa up- ostensibly because I was Lisa's original point of contact, and Vicky was my friend who was also a flying brick and capable of making sure Tattletale would direly regret trying any funny business.

"Hey!" Vicky protested from the passenger seat, even as Tattletale got into the back seat.

"Don't worry, you're  _ also _ a fucking dork," Tattletale said, closing the door and buckling up.

"Thank you," Vicky said. "A girl likes to feel included, you know?"

"Except when I talk to your mom, huh?" Tattletale said.

"...pardon?"

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna say a damn thing about Ophiuchus. Brandish doesn't need to know, and frankly, I don't need you mad at me. We can all just... politely ignore that, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me," I said.

"Same," Vicky said.

"Oh, I'm Rose, by the way."

"You already know my name."

"I'm Lisa," Tattletale said. "I suppose you've got a  _ reason _ being so cavalier about unmasking to me?"

"Well, I'm close friends with New Wave, and also my healing power can heal  _ myself _ ," I said. "It's... Actually probably near impossible for anyone to hurt me in a way that matters."

"Fair enough," Lisa said.

"Hey, I have a question," I said. "I remember when you called me, and I  _ also _ remember when Grue actually got hurt, on account of my power. You said you shot him, but... You shot him  _ before _ you called me, when you had no idea if I'd take the job or not. What, uh... What was your backup plan for if I told you to go whistle?"

"I'm not entirely sure; Coil told me not to worry about it," Lisa said. "By the by, Grue doesn't know about Coil specifically, just that we've got a boss that only I talk to."

"So, what, did Coil have a backup healer who could patch Grue up?" Vicky asked. "Or is Grue just disposable?"

"Maybe Coil's got a sort of undo button like mine," I said. "Thomas Calvert's trigger event was drinking something vile not all that long after he shot a man; that draws a few parallels with my own experience, albeit... he has a more  _ extreme _ variant, I'll grant him that. I didn't kill anyone, by the way."

"That doesn't quite fit," Vicky said, frowning. "If he has an undo button of his own, why would he care about having a healer on call?"

"...Because  _ his _ undo button affects  _ everything _ ," Lisa said with dawning realization. "Fuck!  _ That's _ what that asshole's power is! Okay, I've been seeing signs for a while, but... I think I got it- he splits the timeline, gets to try the same time period in two different ways, and then he chooses which one 'really' happened, throwing away the other. So his test of Ouroboros' loyalty was dead simple- in one timeline, I don't shoot Grue or make the call, and in the other, I  _ do _ , and he picks whatever works! That way, if you  _ aren't _ willing to work for villains, you don't get a  _ call _ from villains, and don't start getting suspicious!"

"Son of a  _ bitch _ ," Vicky muttered. "He's gonna be a real pain in the ass to deal with, isn't he?"

"Well, hey," I said. "We didn't sign up for the hero business cause it was  _ easy _ ."

"I didn't sign up at all, I was born into it."

"Oh. Well, then it sucks to be you, I guess."

"That's just being a cape in general," Lisa said. "Pardon the pun, but it's no bed of roses."

Vicky and I groaned, and Lisa cackled.

"So, Rose," Vicky said. "You subscribe to the theory that the specific nature of individual trigger events sorta predetermines what kind of power is going to come out?"

"Iunno if I'd say I  _ subscribe _ to it," I said. "I saw it online while I was doing some research so I wouldn't keep being woefully underinformed next to you."

"Mm, fair. I guess I'll have to hook you up with a spare textbook, then; generally a more  _ reliable _ source than the internet."

Silence reigned.

"Is a hot dog a sandwich?" I asked.

"No," Vicky said, at the same time Lisa said "Yes."

"What the  _ fuck?"  _ Vicky said.

"It's like a hybrid of a submarine and open faced sandwich," Lisa said.

"Ffft. 'Open-faced sandwich.'" Oooooh, she was breaking out the air quotes. "You know what qualifies as an 'open-faced sandwich?' Fucking  _ pizza _ ."

"Pizza is also a sandwich," Lisa said sagely.

"Fuck you!"

"Look, you're getting hung up on the  _ morphological _ definition of a sandwich," Lisa said. "What  _ really _ matters is the  _ teleological  _ definition of a sandwich. It's a simple litmus test, yeah? I pretend I'm the Earl of Sandwich, and I've asked for non-bread foods to be brought to me inside bread, so I can eat them one-handed while playing cards. Pizza passes this test. Pizza, therefore, is a  _ fucking _ sandwich."

"Pop tart," I said.

"That's a kind of dumpling."

"Rose, back me up here," Vicky said. "Pizza isn't a sandwich, right?"

"Pizza isn't a sandwich because I like pizza but I don't like sandwiches," I said.

" _ You don't like sandwiches?!" _ Vicky all but yelled.

"Indoor voice."

"That doesn't make sense," Lisa said. "Like there's who the fuck even knows how many different kinds of sandwiches- the only way you could dislike  _ all _ sandwiches is to dislike all bread and bread substitutes. I'm on Vicky's side here tee bee haitch."

"Oh don't say that out loud with your own human word hole," Vicky said.

"Okay, so, I don't like  _ typical American sandwiches _ ," I said. "Where it's like. A tiddlywink of shitty ham put between two slices of literal whitebread. Also, in general, bread is okay but as a foundational element I often find it quite lacking and disappointing when it's being used to bulk out a, quote,  _ meal _ unquote, so that you load up on carbs instead of anything that might actually  _ taste _ good. A  _ good _ sandwich, I think, is roughly analogous to a burger. Just, like, anything where the bread to filling ratio isn't like ninety five percent bread by volume."

"Ah, the taste of shitty childhood," Lisa said.

"More or less," I said, nodding.

"Is that what this is?" Vicky asked. "Are you gonna go supervillain with a sandwich-based theme as your tragic backstory, as you execute some cunning plot to, uh... fuck, I don't even know. Blow up a sandwich factory?"

"I'm sorry did you just say  _ sandwich factory?" _ I asked.

"Yes, Rose, you can buy factory-made sandwiches. They're at pretty much every fucking corner store in the world. Welcome to the twenty first century, you goddamn luddite."

"Well  _ excuse me _ for having the  _ audacity _ to be the youngest and least-favored child in a suburban family!" I said. "There weren't exactly many opportunities for me to get out much as a kid, y'know!"

"Yep, there's that taste again," Lisa said. "Y'know, after this all blows over, I've got a guest room if you need somewhere to crash."

"I don't sleep," I said. "But... thanks for the offer. I'll... keep it in mind." I pulled into the driveway of the Dallon household, and sighed. "Alright, well, we're here, so... Let's get this strategy meeting show on the road."


	8. Lovely Weather

"So, Lisa, question," I said. "What, uh... What exactly is the plan for the  _ rest _ of the Undersiders?"

"Yeah, like... Regent and Hellhound are both wanted for murder," Vicky added.

It was late on Monday night, and we'd retreated to Vicky's room. The strategy session with New Wave had been long, boring, and not even slightly required or even facilitated my meaningful participation. Not even as the devil's advocate for pragmatic yet brutal strategies- it had been Manpower who suggested picking a random night to firebomb Coil's house  _ and _ raid his base. It was a reminder that these people had, in fact, been doing this shit for longer than I'd been alive, and I was nowhere near smart enough to think of things they hadn't already.

"What Grue wants is pretty simple, and... honestly, he kinda already has it," Lisa said. "He wants custody of his sister, and his mother's fighting him for it. Thing  _ is _ , though, his  _ dad _ has custody of his sister  _ already _ , and is perfectly willing to go along with whatever Grue says in that regard- he's not a great guardian, but he's more neglectful and distant than actively abusive, so..."

"Mmn. Still not great, but..."

"Hellhound, meanwhile, is...  _ yes _ she did kill someone,  _ but _ that someone was the abusive foster mother who caused her trigger event, so like... It's something you could probably argue in court and get a verdict of Not Guilty, if you happened to be a very good lawyer," Lisa said.

"We may know a few of those," Vicky said.

"And Regent... He was definitely under the effects of a Master power for most of his life, so you can probably get him cleared on those grounds, too," Lisa said. "Those two... probably wouldn't be  _ thrilled _ by the prospect of the Wards, but they wouldn't object too strenuously, and..." She steepled her fingers. "Well, frankly, being forced into either jail or the Wards is probably the nicest thing I can do for them. I am...  _ not _ a therapist."

"Yeah, fair," Vicky said, nodding. "No shame in knowing your limits."

Lisa sighed, looking down and leaning back.

"Need a hug, hon?" I asked.

"Make it two," Lisa said.

"Greedy, aren't you?" Vicky asked, grinning.

"Well,  _ duh _ ," Lisa said. "I mean, two invincible heroes who're going out of their way to make me safe? Why  _ wouldn't _ I feel even safer with their arms around me?"

"Rose, I think she's trying to flatter us," Vicky said.

"Yeah, seems like," I said. "It's working, isn't it?"

"A little. Alright, well, you win."

Lisa raised her arms out to the side, clearly expecting Vicky and I to each take a side and let her drape her arms down our backs, letting her pose like some suave lady's man with a girl on each arm in the back of a limo.

What Lisa got instead is pulled face-first into a hug with Vicky, who then used her flight to tackle me onto my back, Lisa's own back pressing firmly against my front.

Lisa spluttered in surprise, even as the pressure lightened up and Vicky pulled us all back more-or-less upright. "What!" Lisa protested.

"Hug sandwich, bitch," I said, sliding my hands between Vicky and Lisa to wrap my arms around Lisa's waist. Vicky continued her own maneuvering, and soon we were sitting on her bed- or, rather,  _ I _ was sitting on her bed, Lisa was sitting in my lap- I worried momentarily about the status of my dick and wished I'd tucked it down a leg of my pants earlier- and Vicky in Lisa's lap, her legs wrapped around the  _ both _ of us, crossing at the ankles behind my back.

"Hug sandwich!" Vicky agreed.

"Oof, you're- enthusiastic," Lisa said.

"Want me to let go?"

"Don't you  _ dare _ . Just...  _ surprised _ is all."

"Yeah, she does that," I said. "Vicky is... honestly, she's the best friend to have, if what you really need is a good hug. Y'know, I heard somewhere that the mark of a true hero is how good they are at hugging."

"Sappy bitch," Vicky said.

"Perhaps," I said. Hey, if she liked being called a hero, who was I to  _ not _ relentlessly push the 'hero' button every time I wanted to make her happy? An idea formed in my head, and I grinned. "Hmmm... Hey, Lisa?"

"I catch your drift," Lisa said, nodding.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm pretty much psychic, thanks to my power," Lisa said. "I know your plan, and I'm in."

"The hell are you two talking about?" Vicky said, narrowing her eyes.

"To quote a wise woman," I began. "Surprise judo, bitch!" I froze her and then tipped all of us sideways, careful to maintain my grip on her as Lisa squirmed out from between us, and tucked herself under Vicky's left arm, leaving me to the right. Vicky ended up on her back, her arms around the both of us, and our heads on her shoulders with our arms around her back and waist.

"Your turn in the middle," Lisa said, grinning.

"Oh my god, you-" Vicky cut herself off, giggling. "God. This is a little  _ much _ , huh?"

"Hey, if anyone in this room deserves a pair of cuties on her arms, it's you," I said.

"Careful now," Vicky said, squeezing me closer with her right arm, before her hand came up to play with my hair. "You make me smile any harder and I might pull something."

"Y'know," Lisa said. "Rose here enjoys being the center of attention almost as much as you do..."

"Oooooh, good thinking!" Vicky said, before pouncing. I yelped and suddenly was in much the same position Vicky had been in, except that Vicky was now  _ on top _ of me, pinning me down by the shoulders, whereas Lisa seemed to have claimed my legs, wrapping her own around mine. "Muhuhahaha, we have you now, my pretty!"

"Oh no, woe is me," I said, wrapping an arm around her back and shoulders, squeezing her closer. "Truly, this is the worst day of my life, when I was locked into the prison of Victoria Dallon's strong arms and Lisa... lastname-"

"Wilbourne."

"Lisa Wilbourne's  _ very _ lovely legs," I said. "Woe is me."

"Don't forget the hair," Lisa said.

"...What?"

"...I couldn't think of a witty way to say it, so... play with my hair," Lisa said.

"Me too," Vicky said.

"God, you two are  _ needy _ ," I said, pulling my hands up their backs and into their scalps. I found myself somewhat torn- the fact I'm a Noctis Case was probably all that was stopping me from blissfully passing out in this heavenly cuddle puddle, and on the one hand I liked being awake to properly enjoy it, but on the other hand I definitely would not have objected to a nap with these two. "You're lucky you're  _ very _ cute, and I am  _ very _ gay."

The conversation didn't really continue from there; none of us had much we felt like saying, not when we could instead just bask in each other's blissful warmth and soft embraces. The passage of time would've blurred, if the extended contact with these two didn't leave me with a perfect awareness of time and what it had done to them.

When I said that my power showed me every bad thing that ever happened to someone... That was true, but not the whole story. Things faded in, in order of severity. Trigger events, broken bones, and organ failures at first. Then bruises, illnesses, scrapes and burns. It took a little bit of constant, unbroken contact to see everything.

As Vicky slowly eased into sleep on top of me, I saw, well and truly, in great detail, every bad thing that had ever happened to her. Even the little things, that didn't individually leave much physiological impact. Every little twinge of loss... a recurring twinge I first recognized from last year, on the first Saturday she walked into the diner and I wasn't there anymore.

"Well, this answers a few questions," Lisa whispered, careful not to wake up our blonde Sleeping Beauty. "She makes friends so fast because she  _ loses _ them pretty fast, too."

"Mmh. Poor girl," I muttered, gently scratching her scalp with my nails and provoking a sleepy half-purr from her. "...Don't mean to pressure you, but-"

"I'll stick around," Lisa said, nodding gently. "Not because I owe her one. Not because I'm safe with New Wave. Because she's a good person, and a good friend. And... Well, I need a good friend almost as much as she does, really."

"That's good to hear," I said. "I, uh, sure hope we can tolerate  _ each other _ . You seem cool so far, but... No idea how our personalities might clash in the future, y'know?"

"You seem pretty alright so far," Lisa said. "But, even if we can't... It'll be fine. She'll have plenty of opportunities to hang out with one of us and not the other."

"Fair," I said, before turning more of my attention to Lisa. She'd been a bit touch starved herself, so far as I could tell, which... hrm, she'd had to acclimate to Brockton Bay's climate about a year ago, not too long after her trigger event, so... Not from here, probably a runaway... Not a conducive state to making friends and getting hugs on the regular, I bet. "Hopefully we can. If you need one good friend, you'll probably do better with two."

"Sappy bitch."

"You know it."

"And  _ you _ ... Well. No point telling  _ you _ how much you need friends, huh? You  _ know _ ."

"...Yeah," I said, my heart suddenly feeling like a pincushion. "I'd... rather not talk about it."

"Mmn. Sorry, hon." She reached up, gently patting my cheek. "Hm... Oh, by the way- she's attracted to you, but she's not willing to admit it to herself, for two reasons. One, she's got a boyfriend already, and  _ two _ , she thinks that it's just an artifact of part of her brain not fully realizing or accepting that you're a girl, and that her crush on you is built on the false premise of you being a boy."

"...Why on god's green earth would you tell me that?" I asked. "I didn't really want or need to know that."

"Because my power is to know things, and I like to run my mouth," Lisa said with a shrug.

"I think I'm starting to change my mind on whether we can be friends."

"That's fair." She made a weird face, stretching her back and shoulders. "Mmmm... God, I'm  _ really _ comfortable here,  _ but _ ... I do kinda need to get home soon. But I don't  _ want _ to get up..." She groaned, and Vicky shifted in her sleep.

"Vicky, wake up," I said, jostling her gently and provoking a similar groan to Lisa's. "I know, I'm comfortable too, but I have to go."

"Nooooooooo," she whined, muffled slightly by the fact she was apparently trying to bury her head in my non-existent chest.

"I know, I know," I said, patting her on the head a few times. "I love you too. But I have to leave now."

She whined wordlessly, tightening her grip on me.

"Come  _ on," _ I said. "I have to pee, too."

"Piss yourself," Vicky said simply.

"Kinky," Lisa said.

"What do I have to give you, for you to let me leave?" I asked.

Vicky hummed thoughtfully, shifting herself up until her chin was resting on my shoulder. She hummed some more, thinking it over.

"I swear to god if you fall back asleep-" I began.

"No, no, hang on," Vicky said. "I think I want... Hrm... Alright, I'll let you go,  _ if _ you tell me three things you like about me."

"What, only three?" I asked. "Alright, well, I like that you're funny as hell, I like that you share my love of pointless semantic arguments, I like that you're so casually affectionate and  _ very _ good at giving hugs, and most importantly, I like that I'll get to see you again tomorrow."

"Sorry, that was four things, you're gonna have to try again," Vicky said. "No reusing compliments, ei-  _ ack!" _

I let go of Lisa and rolled myself and Vicky over, pinning her on her back and lifting myself up so we could meet each other's gazes. She was red all over, with wide eyes and an infectious grin. We stayed like this for a moment, just enough for it to really sink in.

"I'll see you tomorrow, hon," I said. "But for tonight... I really do have to leave."

"See you then," she said.


	9. Grappling

"Step through and around... put your hip behind mine... and pull your leg back."

As I carefully- and poorly- executed the basic osotogari throw, I thought about why, exactly, Vicky was so adamant that I let her teach me judo. Was it for self-defense? No, not really- I was a healer, who could heal myself, and I didn't go out on patrols. There was just... pretty much nothing that could hurt me that would be inconvenienced by my knowing judo. Was it for exercise, or enlightenment, or any of those other things? Probably not.

If I had to guess, she wanted to give me judo lessons because judo is a martial art and those take a while to learn to any acceptable degree of proficiency, and so if I committed to learning judo from her, I was committing to visiting her for no less than an hour every week for the next year or so.

"Alright, good work," Vicky said, picking herself up. In defiance of her claim that we could wear basically the same size of clothing, the judogi she'd loaned me the first time had been way too loose on my lanky, twig-like frame, the sleeves flapping like seagulls whenever I moved too fast. I'd ended up buying my own afterwards, which I was wearing now. "Alright, let's try that again, but this time, I'm going to step back from the osotogari, and you're going to do ouchigari instead."

"Question," I said. "Do we have to use the Japanese names for all these techniques?"

"Osotogari is faster to say than major outside reap," Vicky said with a shrug. "Also, it's what everyone calls it, and I don't want your judo education to end with me."

"Fair."

"Alright, now c'mon. Osotogari into ouchigari. Let's go."

We grabbed each other by the lapels with one hand, and the sleeves with the other. I tugged her forward to force a step forward, kicking my leg out and around the leg she just put forward. She quickly stepped back with that leg, leaving the other leg exposed, and I simply hooked my airborne leg around the back of that one, sweeping her balance out from under her and throwing her to the mat.

The Dallon Household had a very well-appointed exercise room in lieu of a regular basement, with some racks of weights- dumbells and barbells and a few kettlebells- off to the side, and the main centerpiece of the room being a well-padded boxing slash wrestling ring, in which Vicky and I were practicing judo throws. Well, ring was probably the wrong word; there were no ropes or anything, just a few thick layers of padding in a square about ten feet a side.

"Your form's a little sloppy on that ouchigari," Vicky said, picking herself up. "You need to swing your leg out a little more, get a more smooth movement with it. Let's try it again."

The door to the basement opened, and Amy poked her head in.

"Oh! Hey Ames! C'mon down, Rose and I are doing judo! Oooooh, actually, you mind showing Rose the osotogaeshi counter? I know it's your favorite..."

"I- th- hang on a minute," Amy said, stepping through the doorway. "One, why can't you do it, and two, have you even taught this jackass how to fall?"

"Because you're smaller than Rose and getting thrown around by someone smaller than you is an important part of learning judo," Vicky said sagely. "Also, of course I taught her how to fall- we did that last week. It's not really all that relevant to Rose considering that she's a self-healer and all, but I taught her anyways because I'm not stupid. Now c'mon. Show her who's the baddest healer in town."

"...Fine," Amy muttered, before hopping on the handrail of the stairs down and sliding down in a flash, striding up to the ring in a businesslike manner. "Let's get this over with. Rose, try the osotogari throw on me."

I grabbed her by the lapel and wrist- she was wearing a short-sleeved shirt- and went through the steps of the osotogari throw... right up until the point where I hooked my leg behind Amy's, at which point she threw that leg back, throwing me off balance and to the floor.

"Okay, I see what you mean about the educational value of getting beaten up by short people," I said, flat on my back. Amy barely cleared five feet tall, and I was a little over six, and yet she could still just casually throw me around like that. "I also now understand why people say judo is about redirecting your opponent's energy."

"Anyway, I came down here to let you two know Mom wants to talk to you," Amy said. "C'mon."

\---

"Wait, what?!"

"What do you mean you already took down Coil?!"

"It's only been two weeks!"

"I am very good at what I do," Carol said simply.

"I'm a free woman, now," Lisa said proudly. " _ And _ I did  _ not _ have to join the Wards as a plea-bargain alternative to going to jail."

"That's... uncharacteristically reasonable of the US Government," I said. "How the hell did you wrangle  _ that?" _

"I am  _ very _ good at what I do," Carol repeated. "At any rate, she  _ does _ have to do contract work for the PRT to pay her bills, but I was able to negotiate a very good rate on her behalf. It shouldn't be too onerous, and if it  _ is _ ... well, she knows where to find me. I'm sure the law firm has a few paper-pushing jobs we already outsource to teenagers as it is."

"Eh, at least it's not working in a diner," I said.

"You still do that?" Lisa asked.

"Yep," I said. "Aside from windfalls like big industrial accidents, there actually isn't much local demand for my kind of healer in this city. I've gotten maybe... two jobs in as many weeks? Also, my parents are blissfully unaware of my status as Ouroboros and would probably get on my ass if I stopped working at the diner."

"So," Amy said, "is that... all? I mean, who even  _ was _ Coil?"

"That megalomaniac Thinker we were talking about two weeks ago," Carol said. "And, yes, that is all. Announcement over, you may return to your regularly scheduled... whatever it is the kids these days do."

"Judo practice in the basement," I supplied.

"I would never have guessed," Carol said dryly, glancing down at the judogi I was still wearing.

\---

Lisa and Amy joined Vicky and I in the basement for some more judo practice, which involved Lisa being press-ganged into a spare ill-fitting judogi(Vicky's spares fit Lisa even worse than they fit me) and being forcibly taught the very basics.

"You're using your power, aren't you?" I accused, after the third sparring match that ended with me on my back.

"Who, moi?" Lisa asked innocently.

"Tell you what," Vicky said. "Rose, this time  _ you _ can use your power, too."

"Oh sh-"

Lisa didn't finish her oath before I had  _ her _ flat on her back.

"Wow, turns out judo's a lot easier to do with someone who holds still," I said.

"Fuck you," Lisa said. It must've been very strange for her, having  _ literally _ no memory of anything between me putting my hands on her and me throwing her to the mat, and not just in the 'high-speed martial arts can be hard to follow for the uninitiated' way.

"Well, if you insist," I said, stepping back and letting her stand up as she groaned.

"So, your power works through clothes?" Amy asked.

"Yep, even if I'm wearing rubber gloves," I said. "But, uh... maybe don't go spreading that around, please?"

"Wait,  _ what?" _ Vicky asked.

"You weren't- I  _ told _ you, Vicky," I said.

"It's a small detail, okay?" Vicky said defensively. "God, that ruins the plan I had..."

"What plan?"

"I figured, if I put on an NBC suit before our match, then even if you  _ did _ use your power, I could still win," Vicky said.

"I mean, you could just use your own power," I said. "Throwing a person is a lot more practical than throwing a person-shaped immovable object."

"But that's cheating," Vicky said. "I wanna be good enough to beat you  _ without _ using my power."

"Well, in that case, you're probably gonna want to get pretty good at kickboxing then," I said. "Or, uh... actually, learn how to use a lasso."

"Yes, kickboxing," Vicky said. "I'm definitely going to try to hurt a  _ Striker _ with  _ kickboxing." _

"It's more that I self-heal, and hitting me in the face doesn't really do much," I said. "A quick touch like being punched in the face, though, is  _ too _ quick for me to really do much about with my own power. Now, stuff like a lasso or a rope dart or whatever,  _ that'd _ probably be what it takes to take me down."

"Hey, sis, I hear there's a local kung fu dojo that teaches rope dart once you get the basics down," Amy said.

"God, don't tempt me," Vicky muttered. "Well! In happier news, my birthday's in about a month or so. Been talking to Dean, he's planning to throw a big party at his place for the event."

"Wait, who's Dean again?" I asked.

"...Dean is my boyfriend," Vicky said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm...  _ pretty _ sure you two have met? Like, at  _ some _ point?"

"Don't think so, no," I said, shaking my head. "Only Dean I know is  _ James _ Dean, and he's been dead since the 50s."

"He was over here for movie night last Friday," Lisa said. "Y'know, the one Rose wasn't here for because she works the graveyard shift every weekend like clockwork."

"Oh shit, yeah," Vicky muttered. "Well, crap. Okay, well, we have another month or so to introduce you two..."

"Meh, I'll meet him at the birthday party," I said with a shrug. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Surprise me," Vicky said. "I've got pretty much everything I  _ actively _ want, at this point, so..."

"...Lisa, any ideas?"

"A few, yeah," Lisa said. "But, in the interest of 'surprising her,' I'll fill you in some other time when she's not around. Probably my new place once I finish up getting moved in. So, if you want to hurry that along..."

"Fine, I'll help you move," I said. "Vicky, you mind helping too?"

"God, you trigger with an Alexandria Package and suddenly everyone wants you to help them move," Vicky muttered. "Yeah, sure thing."

"You're my hero," Lisa said, hugging Vicky, who was now suddenly blushing. After a moment, though, Lisa yelped as she was suddenly thrown onto the mat.

"Lesson one! Never let your guard down!" Vicky yelled, back in Sensei Mode, albeit still blushing a little. Looks like it's back to judo lessons...


	10. Taking Initiative

"Okay, so, here's the thing," Lisa said, laying sprawled out on the floor of her tiny townhouse's living room. "Vicky grew up rich, and so money doesn't mean as much to her as it does to you. And there's a lot of ways that can go, but in  _ her _ case, it means that she values something that you put a lot of  _ time _ into more than something you put a lot of  _ money _ into. So, y'know. For her birthday, don't  _ buy _ her something,  _ make _ her something."

"...Crap," I muttered. "I enjoy making things, but... I would not say that I'm  _ good _ at it. Hrm..."

"Well, you've got a month to do some practice runs of whatever you plan on giving her."

"That's the thing, I  _ still _ don't know what to give her," I said. "Although... I  _ do  _ know how to knit, in theory, and she  _ did _ loan me a scarf a little under a month ago... Hrm.  _ Hrm. _ "

"Sounds like you've got an idea," Lisa said. "However, might I suggest a hat instead?"

"Any particular kind?"

"Hrm... Well, it's summer, so maybe a sun hat to go with a sun dress? Or, if you want a more all-weather hat, a big floppy beret would look pretty cute on her."

"Tell you what," I said. "If you can figure out what she'd like best... and also source materials in her favorite color because I am colorblind... then I'll make two things and let you put your name on one of 'em. It's a team effort, making... anything at all that looks good, when you're colorblind."

"I mean, I'll also make something," Lisa said. "You don't need to pay me for that kinda help, here. And if you  _ do  _ feel the need... Well, you  _ did _ help save my life, so I'm gonna say I owe you one, at the very least. Besides, I'm getting into general... cloth-and-fiber crafts, so... Eh, it'll be a good intro to the hobby."

"... _ Which _ cloth-and-fiber crafts? Because I know a little about knitting and sewing, but very little about the likes of, say, embroidery or spinning."

"As it  _ just so happens _ , knitting and sewing because those seemed like a good place to start," Lisa said, sitting up. "Unfortunately I got my sewing machine second-hand and I have no idea how to use the damn thing, and I don't want to waste my power on it. Help?"

"Yeah, sure thing," I said, getting off the couch. "Upstairs?

"Yep. So, how do  _ you _ know this stuff, anyhow?" Lisa asked. "Considering your, uh...  _ background _ ..."

"What, the fact I thought I was a boy for the past seventeen years?" I asked. "Well, the simple answer is that I have four older sisters, and I like making things. If you've got some scraps of fabric and stuffing handy, I can even walk you through your first sewing project, help you get to grips with your sewing machine."

"Sounds good to me."

\---

The next time I visited Lisa, it was to find Vicky already there, and the two of them already on the couch, watching How It's Made. Lisa was sprawled out on the couch, her head in Vicky's lap, and Vicky was in turn idly playing with Lisa's hair.

"Room for one more?" I asked.

"Sure thing," Vicky said, reaching over and scooping Lisa up into her lap, clearing a spot for me on the couch. Lisa blushed a little- not that I blamed her, being manhandled by Vicky was generally quite, ah,  _ exciting _ . I sat down, and then grabbed the throw pillow Lisa and I had made last time, putting it in my lap before Vicky set Lisa down in my lap, allowing the freckled blonde's head to fall back into Vicky's lap. "...So why the pillow?"

"It's a courtesy measure," I said. "The past few weeks of regular cuddling have taught me that there simply is not a way to tuck my dick such that it will not be either massively uncomfortable for me or produce a noticeable bulge after, like, two minutes."

"Aw, but I  _ like _ the boners," Lisa said earnestly. A moment passed, before a grin split her face and we all started laughing. "No but seriously, lose the pillow, it's lifting my hips too much and tilting me at a weird angle."

"But-"

"Look, Rose, it's  _ fine _ . I mean, what's the point of having friends if you can't be a little gay with them, y'know?"

"...While I agree with that sentiment, I am intimately aware that many people do  _ not _ ," I said. "I'm just... I'm trying to respect boundaries here, y'know? Which is kinda hard since I'm bad at social cues and all."

"I assure you, if you cross a boundary, I  _ will _ let you know," Lisa said. "Now quit being a little bitch and move the damn pillow."

I groaned melodramatically, and tried to remove the pillow. Unfortunately, someone was sitting on it.

"Lisa, move your literal ass, I can't get the pillow out," I said.

"Move it yourself," Lisa said.

Vicky giggled, and also took her hand off of Lisa. I pondered the situation carefully, wondering just how far I was expecting to push this...

...Wait, push this. Duh.

I planted a firm hand on the small of Lisa's back and shoved her off of my lap and also the couch, sending her to the floor with a yelp.

"Got it," I said, removing the pillow.

"Asshole."

"Perhaps," I allowed. "So... changing the subject, who's up for trying to get a game of D&D going?"

"I don't like D&D due to its poor understanding of how battles work," Vicky said, as Lisa clambered back into our collective laps. "Lemme ask you this: how do you win a fight in D&D?"

"Usually by reducing the other guy's HP to zero," I said.

"And how do you win a fight in real life?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Well, I would. And  _ usually _ , you win by  _ making the other guy run _ ," Vicky said. "That's why my power is so great- that aura of awe, filling allies with courage and enemies with fear? That's a morale weapon, babes, and it works  _ real _ well."

"Yeah, but D&D's fictional context is usually  _ in a dungeon _ ," Lisa said. "Y'know, an enclosed space where running away isn't really an option?"

"Yes, I am aware that D&D contrives all sorts of dumb bullshit to explain away its fundamentally disingenuous and unfounded preconceptions on violence, and also morality," Vicky said. "Remind me some time to read the Book of Exalted Deeds with you, it's pretty... not great."

"Okay, suppose that we worldbuild and homebrew the shit out of all the fluff and one or two procedures of play," I said. "I mean,  _ you're _ the one who said you wanted to play D&D when we were talking about kobolds, a few weeks back."

"Oh, right, the whole uh... Kobold progenitor thingy," Vicky said. "Iunno, that's  _ one _ good idea, but do we really have enough good ideas to sustain a whole campaign?"

"I mean... Only one way to find out, yeah?" I asked.

"I'm in, but only if I get to play the most stupidly self-indulgent shit I can think of," Lisa said.

"Like what?" Vicky asked.

"If we're running third edition, I wanna play a succubus without level adjustment and then go straight into Ur-Priest that's been re-keyed to work off my Charisma score."

"I will ask you to keep the horniness just a  _ little  _ contained," I said. "Roleplaying a sexual encounter does in fact qualify as a sexual act in its own right, y'know."

"I never get to have any fun," Lisa said sulkily.

"Also, I think we should invite Amy," I continued. "I don't entirely expect her to take us up on that, but I figure we should at least offer."

"Oooooh, she loves this kinda shit," Vicky said. "Although... Okay, Lisa  _ definitely _ cannot be allowed to play a succubus, if Amy's gonna be here. She takes this sorta shit real seriously."

"Seriously enough that she'd object to 'dragons are actually descended from kobolds?'" I asked.

"No, she's fine with wild-ass premises like that, it's just that she's not real fond of 'can I screw the barmaid?' or whatever Lisa's planning with her succubus character," Vicky said. "The premise can be silly, but she wants the gameplay to be  _ serious." _

"She may be momentarily disappointed," I said. "D&D games that try to start with or force a serious tone often... degenerate, shall we say, into an extended Monty Python sketch. Usually better to simply let the engagement happen naturally; sure, it means you'll have your heartwrenching emotional gutpunching moments with characters named shit like Dildo T. Baggins and Sephiroth Goku the Stampede, but..."

"I'm sorry but did you just say Sephiroth Goku?" Vicky asked.

"Sephiroth Goku  _ the Stampede," _ I corrected her.

"Can I name my character Dildo Baggins?" Lisa said. "I can take or leave the T- oh wait, T. Baggins,  _ tea-bagging, _ Rose you are a fucking genius."

"I try my best. Also I just had a terrible plot idea that I love, so... fuck, I guess we really are doin' this, huh?" I said.

"I'll try and get Amy on board," Vicky said. "Lemme know when you're ready."

\---

"Alright, some quick background before we begin," I said. Lisa was hosting the game at her place, and had rearranged some furniture so we could all sit comfortably around the same table. She had also kinda-sorta dressed up for this- either that or she was just wearing a corset over her shirt for no real reason. Vicky and Amy, meanwhile, were in casual, comfortable clothes, and Amy had brought with her a messenger bag containing a tablet(likely with all sorts of PDFs on it) and quite a lot of stationary.

"This is a world full of ruins and relics of fallen empires, where  _ new  _ empires are nearly a dime a dozen, rising and falling near constantly. Those who plunder the ruins for relics are called Adventurers- a recognized, if not always respected, profession that's often embroiled in disputes with other guilds and professions for muscling in on their territory," I continued. "The three of you, for whatever reasons you may have had, are all newly-minted members of the Adventurer's Guild, and you're all meeting up in the Guild's cafeteria- which looks exactly like a tavern- to meet each other and the Guild representative who has your first job."

"So we all meet in a tavern," Amy said.

"It's  _ tradition _ ," I said.

"Alright, well... I'm Rolen Amakiir and I'm a Grey Elf Wizard, but I don't look like one," Amy said. "I look like a pretty typical city-dwelling elf, dressed much like my human neighbors."

"My real name is Sally, but I go by Solaria because it sounds elfy to me and  _ only _ to me," Vicky said. "I'm a Human Cloistered Cleric of the abstract concept of Elfishness, with the twin domains of Elves and War, and I'm basically a weeaboo but for elves, and my most prized possession is my Authentic Elfish Longbow that is actually a cheap piece of crap that I bought from a less-than-reputable merchant. Yes, it is the elfish equivalent of a mall katana."

"Oh my god," Amy muttered, palming her face.

"I'm Dox and I'm a Changeling Bard who prefers to default to a Tiefling-like form so I can pretend I'm a Succubus," Lisa said.

"Unfortunately, this does not have the desired effect, and Dox is a virgin," I said.

"Don't encourage her," Amy said.

"Shit, how do I correct this," Lisa said. "Quick, Elfaboo! I'll turn into an elf if you'll finger me in the bathroom!"

"Oh no, my greatest weakness!" Vicky proclaimed.

"So  _ anyways, _ the Guild rep walks up to your table and sits down just before things can get too saucy," I said. "She's an old dwarfish woman with gray hair and eyebrows the size of dinner plates, and in her hand she's got a scroll. She looks around and asks, 'You youngins ready for your first Guild job?'"

"Absolutely, please continue," Amy said.

"The nearby town of Bellevue has an old, historically significant castle in it, which has been slated for demolition by decree of the Queen's daughter," I said. "The contract is being offered up by the Bellevue Antiquarian Society to find some way to stop the demolition, which is scheduled to begin in one month's time. So, heroes... you up for it?"

"Wait a minute," Amy said.

"Hm?"

"Are you telling me," Amy said, "that our first adventure is to rescue a  _ tower _ from a  _ princess?" _

"That is exactly what I am telling you, yes."

She mulled this over, working her jaw as though she was literally chewing on it.

"I..." she began. "...am in."

"Is this the idea you had last week?" Vicky asked. "Because I am  _ loving _ it so far."

"It is, y-" Her phone and Amy's began blaring an alarm, followed shortly by Lisa's, and finally mine. "The hell?" I pulled out my phone, flipped it open, and...

"Lung," Vicky said. "Suit up, everyone. We're in for a rough night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been doing author's notes for most of No Bed of Rose's, but here I feel compelled to do so, to present some important information and context that would not otherwise fit into the story.
> 
> Vicky's character Solaria is presented as a joke- "cloistered? cleric of the abstract concept of elfishness? hah! like a weeb who shuts himself in his room and plays with a katana wishing he was a real samurai!" -and to an extent it is, but it's also a surprisingly simple yet effective build; the War domain gives a free weapon proficiency, here the longbow, and the Elf domain gives the feat Point-Blank Shot for free, a feat that's a prerequisite for almost every other archery feat in the game. Vicky is, in essence, building an archer cleric, and while Solaria's not gonna break any optimization records, she's gonna pull her goddamn weight.


	11. Pincushion

"So why the hell did the PRT issue you a patrol car?" I asked from the passenger seat, Lisa at the wheel and speeding through the city towards the dockyards on the north end of town. It was late, and barely anyone was on the roads anyways, but the siren sure as hell helped us along.

"They only gave me a removable siren for the car I already had," Lisa said. "And they gave it to me for exactly this reason- because they know we hang out a lot and wanted me to be able to get you to emergencies quickly."

"...Fair eno-"

"Shhh," Vicky said from the back seat, as her mom picked up the phone. "Glory here, got Panacea, Tattletale, and Ouroboros, en route, ETA three minutes."

_ "Copy that," _ Carol said over speakerphone.  _ "Lung, Purity, and Hookwolf are in some sort of three-way fight in the Docks; our fliers are currently focusing on Lung and Hookwolf, and getting close to Purity. Do we have Ouroboros' unconditional cooperation?" _

"I'm not going to kill anyone or target civilians, but otherwise I'm game for whatever," I said.

_ "Good. Once you're here, ping me, and on our signal, the other fliers will all take Purity at once, and you and Ouroboros will take Hookwolf and Lung, and we can wrap this all up in a neat little bow." _

"Wait, you want me to fight Lung?" I asked. "You overestimate the effectiveness of a white belt in Judo."

_ "Your power pushes people back in time to how they were earlier," _ Carol patiently explained.  _ "Hookwolf and Lung's powers both rely on them being able to  _ transform _ into more durable forms." _

"Oh. That... didn't occur to me."

_ "Disappointing, but not unexpected,"  _ Carol said.  _ "Any further questions?" _

"What level of force is appropriate, here?" Vicky asked.

_ "Minimize collateral damage, but otherwise, try not to do anything we can't fix." _

I turned a little more to glance at Amy. With the both of us... Well. That was awfully permissive.

* * *

"You don't get motion sick, do you?" Vicky asked.

"No, why do you-" She grabbed me by the collar and sped off, once we were out of the car, heading for the fight. Man am I glad I don't get motion sick.

"I'm gonna throw you at Lung first, to put a stop to the fires," Vicky said. "I'll kick him in the head or something, and then we'll get Hookwolf."

"Sounds like a plan," I said, taking in the view from the sky.

Up ahead, in the middle of a raging inferno, two men of metal wrestled with each other in the street. Hookwolf had the advantage of having a much shorter ramp-up time and a more fluid form, being able to envelop Lung and work all sorts of strange angles. Lung, meanwhile, had the advantage of getting stronger, bigger, and tougher with no upper limit as the fight wore on, and also being  _ actively on fire _ , something Hookwolf was a bit antsy around. Metal, after all, was a  _ very _ good conductor of heat.

Up in the sky, Purity was taking potshots at Lung and Hookwolf both, and the Pelhams, near-ish to her, were much more careful with their fire; one could tell by the way Purity freely flattened buildings with her blindingly-bright lasers, and the Pelhams actually fucking hit what they were aiming at.

"Oh, hey, look, there go the Pelhams," Vicky muttered as an orgy of red white and blue eyesores erupted in the sky and my peripheral vision. The white cut out pretty quick, with just red and blue, and I took that to mean Purity- who I  _ think _ had white lasers- was down and out of the picture. "Our turn now, huh?" She turned on her aura, and any doubts, fears, and inhibitions I may have had about the plan sort of... faded. I trusted Vicky. It'd be fine.

"Quickly, before I change my mind," I said, more because I wanted to maintain an image as perpetually sarcastic than anything, as we sped towards the clashing titans. Vicky nodded, and at about twenty paces distant, she stopped on a dime and I didn't, on account she'd let go of me, and now I was flying at them at like eighty miles an hour.

I was ready...  _ enough _ ... and hit Lung with my power at almost the exact same moment I hit him with a spear tackle, and instead of hitting a fifteen foot wall of steely beef, I was instead only dealing with six feet of very confused- but still burly- man. Hookwolf skittered back in confusion, giving Vicky a great opening to rush in, grab Lung out from under me by the leg, and then slam Lung into Hookwolf like a baseball bat.

"The hell?" I asked, running forward to grab Hookwolf too, and prompting him to finally,  _ finally _ realize he was outmatched and should run away. That... was a victory, right? Vicky'd said so a week ago. And yet it didn't  _ feel _ like one.

Vicky must've agreed, too, because she flew around to in front of Hookwolf and smacked him my way with Lung, making that baseball bat metaphor more and more apt.

Especially because, like all sports, it wasn't really complete unless I got hurt, and Hookwolf had, apparently, landed right on top of me, if that gap in my memory and those holes in my suit are any indication, along with that beat-to-shit human Hookwolf.

"You okay?" Vicky asked, breathing heavily and turning off the aura. Was... was that it?

"A little confused," I said. "Is it already over?" Wait, shit, were either of them  _ alive? _ Had I been party to manslaughter?

"Mm, right, your healing wipes memories..." Vicky muttered. "Well, the good news is, you've got good instincts. Suplexed Hookwolf at one point, which was... fucking  _ amazing _ . But, uh... yeah, the fight is over."

"...Okay, then," I said. "Let's, uh... let's go home."

"Nnnnnot so fast," Vicky said, coughing awkwardly. "There's, uh... Well, there's more to this job than kicking ass and taking names, y'know."

* * *

"Days like these, I wonder why I bothered getting out of bed," Gallant said, divested of his heavily damaged armor in the back of a PRT van, and wearing only his helmet and a blue, semi-shiny, rubbery bodysuit that was torn over his solar plexus. I could relate; had to put on a spare NBC suit Lisa'd had the foresight to pack in the trunk of her car.

"Could've been worse," Dauntless said.

"Oh?  _ How?" _

"Coulda gotten nailed by Purity insteada Hookwolf."

"It would've stopped his whining," Amy muttered. "I'm not  _ done _ , hold  _ still." _

"So what happened?" I asked. "Sorry, my memory's got a few holes in it."

"We were out of the fight before you got here," Dauntless said, shaking his head. "Basically, the two of us are the only flying artillery the Protectorate has on hand, and that's what the Director wanted to use here, since  _ last _ time we fought Lung, things got... hairy."

"...Gallant can't fly," Vicky pointed out.

"I could, with Kid Win's hoverboard," Gallant said. " _ Could _ ."

"How did Hookwolf nail you if you were up in the air?" I asked.

"I tried hitting Lung with a fear ray- my power affects emotions- and he didn't like that, so he grabbed Hookwolf and threw him at me," he explained.

"Oof, I can relate to that," I muttered. "Admittedly, Lung sent Hookwolf at me through a more...  _ roundabout _ method, shall we say, but I still caught a racist pincushion to the face, too."

"You lived, didn't you?" Vicky asked, folding her arms and huffing.

"Anyhow, wish we could've met under more  _ pleasant _ circumstances, but..." I glanced around at the wreckage of the city's thankfully already abandoned maritime infrastructure. "Well, nobody needs me when things are going well, do they?"

"Healer's curse," Amy said, pulling her hand away from Gallant. "Nobody's ever  _ really _ happy to see you."

"That's not the healer's curse," I said. "You're just kind of a dick."

"My power makes me hold people's hands enough as it is," Amy said flatly.

"...Fair enough," I said.

"Be nice, you two," Vicky said, planting her hands on her hips.

"I don't want to and you can't make me," Amy said primly, lifting her nose in the air.

"Honestly, she's not even particularly mean here, she's just kinda sassy," I said. "I'd tell you about the time she was  _ actually _ mean but I think the both of us would like to pretend that didn't happen."

Amy inhaled sharply through her teeth. "Mmn. Yeah."

"Water under the bridge." Sure, she hadn't actually  _ apologized _ , but... Eh. I guess I'm a forgiving sort. Gotta be, if I wanna keep any friends. "If I was still mad, I wouldn't have invited you to D&D. Anyhow, I see y'all have things under control; we'll be going back to search and rescue."

* * *

After a few(more than a few) healing sweeps, Lisa and I got back into her car, with me at the wheel since I was incapable of passing out behind it. Amy and Vicky, thoroughly exhausted, had elected to simply ride home with their mother, and retrieve their car from Lisa's house tomorrow.

"Well," I said, starting the car. "That wasn't how I was expecting this fight to go. Or this evening in general."

Lisa grunted wordlessly.

"But, hey. We, uh... we took down Hookwolf, Purity,  _ and _ Lung," I said. "That's gotta count for  _ something." _

"Yeah. Sorry, just... Thinking about other stuff."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Thinking about the trajectory of my life," Lisa said. "I'm not an orphan, y'know."

"Oh?"

"Ran away from home, not too long after my trigger event," Lisa said quietly. "Just... left. Ended up here, and... well. Won't pretend it was all sunshine and rainbows, but... well, now? Now it kind of  _ is." _ She leaned against my shoulder. "Have I mentioned how glad I am you're in my life?"

"Perhaps," I allowed. "But it's nice to hear anyways. A gal likes to feel wanted. I'm glad I met you too."

"I feel bad for you," Lisa said. "Even after this evening, you're...  _ happy _ , as Rose. And after you drop me off at my place, you have to go back to  _ not _ being Rose. It's not fair."

"Yeah, well..." I sighed. "That would  _ severely _ complicate my already not-very-good home life, which I can't practically be rid of."

"Why  _ can't _ you?" Lisa asked. "You're not even that much of a materialist- the only thing you own that you  _ really _ care about, your laptop, you brought with you. You can just... stay. Don't need your parents' permission. You can just... do it. What're... they gonna do?" She yawned sleepily.

I wasn't really sure how to respond to that, either.

She didn't have much to say for the rest of the journey home, and was a little sad to see me go once I'd dropped her off at her house and taken my own car back home.

When I came knocking on her door an hour later, with most of my stuff packed into my car, she couldn't stop smiling.


	12. Palette Swap

"Eugh! Fuck!"

"...You okay there, champ?" Lisa asked.

"Do you know how  _ dangerous _ it is, to like grapes and be colorblind?" I asked, spitting into the garbage can and closing the refrigerator door. "On a related note, why the hell do you have a big bowl of olives just sitting in your fridge?"

Lisa blinked, gears turning in her head, and then she erupted in uproarious cackling.

"You're awful and I hate you."

"Love you too, babe," Lisa said, flashing a grin somewhere between 'wolfish' and 'cat that ate the canary.' Hrm. What's the intersection of wolf and cat? Eh, whatever, not important. "So, how was your first night at la maison de Lisa? What do you even  _ do _ all night if you don't sleep?"

"I sit curled up in bed dicking around on the internet," I said with a shrug, sitting down beside her on the couch. "Also, writing terrible anime fanfiction."

"Fair enough. Can I read it?"

"...No," I said. "I want you to like me."

She snorted.

"Oh, so, the bowl of olives," Lisa said. "That was for a prank, actually, so. Glad to see that it will, in fact, ruin a colorblind person's day."

"Who's it meant for, and what did they do to deserve this?" I asked.

"Secret," Lisa said, that grin coming back. "Anyhow, I have some stuff to do at the PRT building today, and Vicky's got patrol, so... Maybe invite Amy over, hang out with her some? Play some Battlecall: Field of Duty on the Sontendo Gamebox or whatever the kids call it?"

"Why are you like this," I said simply.

"My parents didn't love me," she said with a shrug.

* * *

"Eugh! Fuck!"

"Oh no," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Do you know how  _ dangerous _ it is, to like grapes and be colorblind?" Amy asked, spitting into the garbage can and closing the refrigerator door. "On a related note, why the hell do you have a big bowl of olives just sitting in your fridge?"

"Pardon me one moment," I said, pulling out my phone and firing off a text message.

Rose: You bitch.   
Lisa: :3c   
Rose: >:c

"Lisa put them there on purpose to trick you because she's a bitch," I said. "I would've warned you, but she didn't actually  _ say _ it was you, just that it was for someone colorblind, and... well, I didn't know you were colorblind too." I hummed quietly. "Well, there goes my plan to ask your help in picking a gift for Vicky that isn't a terrible color. Not strictly on-topic, but..."

"God, it's the worst," Amy muttered, returning to the couch and sitting down beside me, picking up her controller. "You know, they  _ say _ I'm red-green colorblind, but it fucks with a lot more than  _ just _ red and green, you know? I painted a cow in art class and my teacher asked why I'd painted the tongue blue, the cowbell lime green, and the horns teal. Asked what sorta stylistic effect I was going for."

"Did you tell her that you're colorblind?"

"That is exactly what I told her and it shut her right up." Amy sighed. "And then someone  _ else _ said 'well Amy why don't you just have someone else tell you what color all the paints are' and I told  _ her _ to fuck off."

"Not the most diplomatic reaction, but considering that my default answer to 'what color is this' is 'it's gonna be red if you keep asking,' I can't say I blame you," I said.

"I know colorblindness isn't a big huge life-altering disability- it makes me kinda bad at some puzzle games and painting- but I do kinda wish it was something people were taught more about in school," Amy said. "I mean good lord, the  _ number of people _ who think we're all monochromatic..."

"It's so obnoxious, right? And then the people who think 'oh, you're colorblind? What color is this?' is an acceptable way to talk to anyone."

"We should do a twitter rant or a podcast," Amy said. "Colorblind Capers."

"We should hire a biotinker to make a globally-dispersed retrovirus that gives everyone protanopia," I said.

"...What the  _ fuck _ ," Amy said, turning to look at me in disgust.

"Too far?"

"More than a little. Don't joke about that."

"Sorry."

Amy grunted, and returned her attention to the screen. "So. Halo, huh?"

"I never did quite develop a liking for Battlefield or CoD," I said. "I'm not about to start a holy war over whether or not they ruined shooters, because frankly I just don't  _ care _ enough about the genre to get into that kinda internet nerdfight, but otherwise I'm not really a fan."

"Good, you've got correct opinions," Amy said. "I won't have to kill you when that particular holy war boils over into the streets. Anyhow, let's see... how about a one-on-one deathmatch, see how good you are, and then we'll hop into online matchmaking."

I grunted assent; wasn't even a question. Amy got to pick the map, partly out of courtesy, but mainly because she had one in mind and I didn't. We loaded in, started running around...

...and then for the next five minutes, Amy kicked my ass. I'd never been very good at FPSes, what with not owning an Xbox until around a few years ago, and also not being big-huge into games, a lot of that energy and interest going into creative pursuits.

Despite my many excuses, Amy was  _ still _ kicking my ass. The score was, I think, about 10-3, by the time the match ended.

"Damn," I said. "You're good."

"Eh, you're just terrible," Amy said.

"Possibly. Hey, changing the subject- how do you feel about physical affection?" I asked. "Like, how much casual hugging and cuddling are you willing to indulge in?"

"What."

"Look, I wasn't  _ raised _ a girl, but in my tenure as one, two out of two girls I've befriended by now were fairly affectionate," I said. "Insofar as I can tell, that's normal, I... think. Look, just answer the question."

"Let's keep it to a grand maximum of  _ none _ ," Amy said. "Just. Don't touch me, okay?"

Ah, right. Suppose Vicky had to get it into her head that Strikers are touch-averse from  _ somewhere _ .

"Fair enough," I said. "I'm always up for a hug if you ever change your mind, no questions asked, but also I'm gonna shut up about it now."

"Please do."

Seconds ticked by in silence. Finally, she sighed.

"You're gonna make me say why, aren't you?" Amy asked.

"If it'll make you feel better, go ahead," I said. "Otherwise... you don't really owe me a reason."

"It's my power," Amy said. "I touch someone's skin, and I see everything about their bodies, every last detail."

Wordlessly, I grabbed the throw blanket off the arm of the couch and held it up.

"No," Amy said. "Not even then."

"You just said your power requires skin contact," I said. "Well, this way there won't be any skin contact and your power doesn't come into it."

"I said no."

"Is it something else? A sorta... association between touch and healing, which I kinda get the impression you don't-"

And suddenly I was on the floor, and Amy was sitting back up.

"What, you wanted to touch me so bad, didn't you?" she asked innocently, having just judo-thrown me to the floor. "Now shut up and pick up the controller already."

"Thank you for being direct in expressing your displeasure," I said, picking myself up off the floor and groaning. "So anyway, what's your ideal shooter?"

"Depends on the mood," Amy said. "Unreal Tournament if I wanna ruin someone else's day, Brutal Doom if I just wanna giggle at unrealistic hyperviolence."

"You're a woman of refined tastes, I see. In the sense that the sugar in Oreos is  _ also _ refined."

"There's a simple virtue, in being easily amused," Amy said loftily. "Also, fuck you."

"I mean, I can't really judge. I write fanfiction for a harem anime."

"Oooooof course you do."

"The yandere villainess who thinks love is a crock of shit is my favorite."

"I hate that I know enough about anime to know what character and show you're talking about."

"Am I wrong though?"

"Honestly, no, you're right in that she's the best character, if only because everyone else sucks so bad. Except maybe Matsu, Matsu is... alright. She's very clearly enthusiastic about it and isn't mentally impaired, although... I mean, being locked away in her house and not being able to leave, that  _ kinda _ seriously reduces her options and makes such an enthusiastic yes less meaningful."

"Yeah, Sekirei's premise is actually really fucked, huh?" I said. "Also some of the characters."

"Musubi is either just  _ literally _ ten years old or she's brain damaged and either way she cannot give informed consent," Amy said.

"Tsukiumi is very clearly  _ not _ okay with polyamory and she only barely tolerates it because she's stuck with Minato for the rest of her life and is trying, poorly, to make her peace with it," I said.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you why Homura's involuntary genderbend so Minato can fuck him without it being gay is terrible," Amy said.

"Yeah, see, there's  _ some _ merit in the idea of a straight trans woman going through her transition on-screen and ending up dating a straight dude," I said. "However, that is entirely reliant on the straight trans woman choosing to transition and all that, rather than it being involuntary spec-fic bullshit. Personally, I think Homura should've remained a dude that Minato simply didn't fuck, just to add a little diversity to how he relates to the Sekirei, because as it stands the only one he  _ doesn't _ fuck is Kusano, and..."

"Everything to do with Kusano was a terrible idea and shouldn't have happened."

"I'm going to start a new Sekirei fic to address all the awful shit and reconstruct something actually likeable out of it," I said. "You in?"

"I'm not a writer," Amy said.

"Well, no, but you're literate and have opinions," I said. "You can at  _ least _ participate in spitballing ideas with me, and we can make something better together than we could on our own."

"So this is what Yume called the power of love," Amy said in a weird voice that I guess was supposed to be a mimicry of Karasuba. "Alright,  _ fine _ , I'm in. Now can we  _ please _ just play some fucking Halo?"

"Sure we can... you fucking weeb."

I ended up on the floor again.


	13. Happy Birthday

"Happy birthday," I said, handing Vicky a gift bag. "I get that it's not in keeping with the spirit of the thing,  _ but _ , I'd appreciate you opening it now so I get to see your reaction  _ before _ everyone shows up, and I still have your attention."

"Yeah, su-  _ oh my god I love it." _

She held in her hand a red wool felt beret, the top of it embroidered to take on the appearance of a rose.

"There's another one inside," I said, as she dug out a bright yellow beret whose top was embroidered with shiny golden thread to form a sunburst. "I'm glad you like 'em! Learning how to dye and felt wool was pretty tricky, but I think it was wo-"

She hugged me tightly, burying her face in my hair.

"Love you too, hon," I said quietly, patting her shoulder and hugging her back. After a few moments, we let go, and she put on the red beret, carefully putting the yellow one back into the bag and looking around for somewhere to put it.

The Stansfield Estate was... big. Unreasonably big. Not just the house, but the grounds around it, carefully manicured and replete with all the amenities a rich fuck would need, from wide open spaces for playing sports to sprawling gardens with immaculate topiaries and meandering paths to a fucking  _ olympic-sized swimming pool _ with a  _ thirty foot tall waterslide  _ to even a goddamn  _ luxury barn _ that, according to Lisa, held horses and was connected to some riding trails. The house itself was also big, standing at around six fucking stories tall, each individual floor containing more floorspace than the entire Dallon household.

Fucking rich people. I'd been only mildly jealous of the Dallon household, but really, it was just a well-built two-story house in the suburbs. It was a  _ nicer _ house than the one I grew up in, a one-story piece of cheaply-built crap, cramped to the point I could see the kitchen from my bedroom door and probably successfully throw a paper airplane into the sink, but it didn't remind me of why I hated capitalism. Dean's house?  _ Did _ .

"Oh, uh, also, general update on my life," I said, as Vicky made for the big, grandiose staircase on the edge of the foyer. "Since I no longer live with my parents, I'm changing my last name so I can't be connected back to them. So, I'm Rose  _ Corcoran _ now, rather than Rose Norman."

"Any ideas for a middle name?" she asked, floating up the stairs beside me.

"Lisa doesn't have one, so honestly I don't really  _ need _ one, but I would  _ like _ one," I said. "And, seeing as how I would like to have the prettiest name I can muster... how do you feel about the name 'Rose Victoria Corcoran?'"

"...You know I'm not gonna fuck you, right?"

I choked and stumbled, barely catching myself. "What the  _ fuck _ ," I wheezed. "That's-  _ okay? _ What?"

"Look it's really touching and it means a lot to me and you're very important to me but I really just  _ do not _ know how to respond to that," she said hastily. "I mean usually taking someone's name is more of a marriage thing, except you took my  _ first _ name and usually that's something you do when you're naming a kid? Look, this is complicated and I have complicated feelings about it,  _ mostly _ positive, but. Um. Yeah, let's maybe just. God, I'm sorry, but can we just not talk about this for now? Maybe some other time, when we have time to unwind and unpack it, but, um. Well, this birthday party isn't for  _ my _ benefit. It is, essentially, a PR event, of which I am the main star, so. I'm not sure now is the best time to unpack our whole... us. Especially in my boyfriend's house."

"Ah, yeah, that'd... probably do it. Yeah, don't sweat it too much, I can wait," I said. "Despite my best efforts, I am in fact capable of recognizing, on occasion, that not everything revolves around me. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"N- well. You don't sleep, right? It's you who's the Noctis Case, not Lisa?"

"Yeah, I'm the Noctis Case."

"Okay, I am going to need  _ someone _ to complain to at length later," Vicky said.

"Honestly I would love that," I said. "Even if it isn't creative kvetching, just general emotive venting... I'm here for you, hon."

"Thanks," she said, pulling me into another hug. "I love you, Rose. I really do. You're just... You're really, genuinely important to me, and I really hope you continue to be a big part of my life. I know I just said a whole bunch of complicating words about that, but. I promise, I do still love you, we just... are gonna have to unpack a few things later. Okay?"

I hugged back, squeezing for all I was worth. "I love you too," I said, as she rested her chin on my shoulder, and I got a bit of red wool in my face. It was comforting, feeling her timeline- her  _ life _ \- seep into me. Maybe it was familiarity making her timeline seep in faster than normal, but after just these few seconds, I could feel her body's movements and positions just like my own.

She lifted her head a fraction, and then bit her lip just a little, before gently shaking her head just the slightest bit and settling back down. I wanted so badly to read further into that. But, like she'd said... this was her boyfriend's house. Perhaps not the best place to read into that in particular.

"Lisa's commandeered a bathroom upstairs," I said, as Vicky lifted me up off the stairs and continued floating up them, shifting to a one-armed hug so she could carry me on her hip like a basket of laundry. "No clue  _ how _ she's gonna tart up six feet of broad-shouldered, flat-chested, lantern-jawed Cajun into Obviously A Girl, but she says she's got a plan."

"She does, yes," Vicky said, nodding. "I helped with it, actually! Can't wait to see it in action."

* * *

"Who knew the trick to getting me into a minidress was to throw on a pair of pants underneath it?" I asked, staring at myself in the mirror. Lisa had slipped me into a two-layered outfit, the base layer consisting of a pair of pants and a shirt, both fairly loose and baggy, bunching up near the rolled-up cuff of the sleeve and where it'd been tucked into a borrowed pair of brown, pirate-like leather boots from Vicky, and the fabrics a matching inky black. Over top of that, the outer layer consisted of a red mini-dress that I would've called 'daring' by virtue of its skirt coming down barely three inches past my crotch, but since I was wearing pants over it, I didn't really have much of a problem with that. Over the waist was a big, purely-decorative belt with a shiny brass buckle, held up by my hips, and on my head was a red bandanna, tied into my hair in such a way that left the front half free to frame my face, and the back half free to flow down my back gracefully.

Speaking of my face, Lisa had worked miracles with the makeup, rounding off a lot of my more angular features, and making me look and feel, for the first time, like a woman. Like I could walk out into the crowd, introduce myself as Rose, and  _ nobody at all _ would think that was weird.

"A little eclectic of a look, but a good one nonetheless," Lisa said. "Wanna go out there and make out so the boys'll pay attention to us?"

"Lisa, the only thing in my life I have  _ ever _ done for a man's pleasure and gratification was masturbate, and the man I was trying to please turned out to be a woman," I said flatly.

"Alright, fair," Lisa said with a shrug. "So. You ready for a  _ disgustingly _ huge party?"

"Feels like kind of a teen staple," I said. "Honestly not looking forward to it, I've never been much of a social butterfly.  _ But _ ... I have  _ also _ never been a pretty girl in a dress before, so I suppose there's a first time for everything."

* * *

There was not, in fact, a first time for everything.

At least the fifth floor bannister provided me with an excellent view of the foyer, perfect for brooding at with a drink in my hand like my name was Jay Gatsby. I smirked and snickered a little as a memory of last year's english class came back; the teacher had put us in groups to prepare some sort of visual aid or something of the sort to represent a character from the book.

I'd combed my hair, taken off my glasses, buttoned up my army jacket, and stood at parade rest and told her my name was Nick.

Her acceptance was grudging, but also still  _ acceptance _ .

"Amy?" someone said behind me as they walked up beside me.

"My name is  _ Rose," _ I corrected them as they turned to face me. "And if you mean the Amy I  _ think _ you mean, I'll have you know I'm a full foot taller than her."

"In my defense," a boy roughly my height with short-cropped blonde hair said, leaning one arm on the bannister, said. "You two have the same hair. Curly and golden brown. You just look like you actually  _ wash _ it every now and then."

"No, I look like my friend went through it with a literal fine-toothed comb for half an hour," I said. "Anyhow, pardon my rudeness, but who the hell're you?"

"We've met before, actually," he said. "Just...  _ in _ costume, that time. I'm Gallant, but please, call me Dean. Victoria's told me a lot about you."

"Lies, all of it," I said. "How was I supposed to know Amy was allergic to weasels?"

"Yeah, that's... about what she told me to expect," he said, as I watched the light leave his eyes. "So. Not much one for parties, are you?"

"I'm a bit of an introvert, yes," I said, turning back to look out over the foyer. "Bluh. Yeah, this definitely isn't my scene."

"Would it help you if I introduced you to a few friends?" Dean asked, turning to face away from the foyer, looking at the people who were actually  _ near _ us. "Oh, there comes one now. His sense of humor is a lot like yours."

"Huh?" I asked, turning around to look. "Who's-" My throat locked up and my heart pounded in my ear as I recognized him.

" _ You," _ Dennis West, the last person on Earth I wanted to see right now and the cause of my trigger event, snarled as he approached.


	14. Escape Hatch

I had to leave, and I had to leave  _ now _ . The stairs- between me and the stairs. The railing- four story drop, but I'll live, straight shot for the door-

"Hey!"

A leap of faith, a second and a half of freefall- a landing I don't remember because it probably killed me- and I was up and running in a flash, blocking out the commotion that sprung up in my wake.

I had to get out of here, and get out  _ fast _ .

* * *

I was still rattling by the time I got home, memories banging against the inside of my skull and body jittering nigh-uncontrollably.

I fucked up. I fucked up  _ bad _ . I'd thought- if I could just... leave it behind, walk away, maybe I could simply start anew with the lessons I'd learned. That's pretty much the only option I had, y'know?

But no. Of  _ course _ my old best friend, the person most familiar with the awful shit I've done, is now besties with a Ward, who'd probably take  _ his _ side over  _ mine _ . And  _ then _ that Ward was, in turn, Vicky's boyfriend, so  _ she's  _ gonna take  _ his _ side over mine, and-

And I'm going to lose all my friends again, and Lisa's probably even going to throw me out of her house, and-

I stumbled into the bathroom, landing on my knees with my hands on either side of the toilet bowl.

I'd  _ really _ fucked it up, here, hadn't I? Today was Vicky's birthday party, which she'd  _ told me _ was a publicity event, and there I'd gone and made a  _ very _ public scene  _ and _ pissed off one of the heroes. Then I'd left Lisa there, when I was her ride home...

I let out a single neurotic giggle, brought up short by the stinging pain of simply  _ existing _ like this. My blood had turned into briars in my veins, every movement a sharp, full-body ache, like my nerves were lit gasoline trying to burn their way out.

A knot of nausea roiled in my stomach. Was I going to throw up or not? I honestly had no idea.

Maybe I was overreacting. I mean... okay, yeah. Yeah, they're gonna believe an established Ward over a new hero, but. But, I took down Lung and Hookwolf,  _ surely _ that's gotta c-

_ "You've done so much for me, and that's why I've dealt with this for so long, but you're just- you're so fucking  _ toxic _ ," Dennis had said. "I won't let you fucking guilt-trip me any more." _

I finally threw up at the memory that was forever seared into my mind. A second pass came soon after- mostly water. I wheezed and groaned, and reached for the lever. A car pulled into the driveway, and every muscle in my body seized up, and I only managed to flush the toilet  _ just _ before the front door opened.

"Rose? Where are you?" Vicky called out.

"Bathroom," Lisa said, leading them toward me.

Shit. Should've closed the door.

"Dean filled us in on the way over," Vicky said, stepping through the bathroom door. "Are..." she trailed off, looking at me.

"It was her trigger event," Lisa said softly, standing behind Vicky, before brushing past her to crouch behind me, gently rubbing my back. The hell? Dean told her everything, didn't he?

I mean, I guess when you un-kidnap someone, that gives a bit more leeway than merely helping them get a girlfriend, or financially supporting them to the tune of several hundred dollars when their dad gets cancer.

My shoulders tensed up. Was that gonna be the deciding factor, here? They  _ want _ to get rid of me like Dennis did, but now they  _ can't _ because I'm a useful cape?

"So, no, she  _ really _ isn't okay right now," Lisa continued, continuing to rub my back, thorns and flames receding at her touch.

"Histrionics aside," Dean said, standing in the doorway next to Vicky, "I think we should clear the air, here. Make sure we're all on the same page." I'd rather not. And I'd  _ really _ rather he leave; Dennis had already been a best friend I fell in love with who was tragically unavailable due to a prior relationship, and I really don't want to keep remembering that Vicky is too. "I'm sure you understand why I'm more than a little  _ nervous _ about leaving  _ anyone _ , let alone my girlfriend, around someone known to sexually harass people who  _ also _ has the ability to wipe memories."

"Alright, tone it the hell down," Lisa said, shooting a glance at Dean.

"Do you have a  _ better _ way of describing someone who's done the sort of awful shit  _ this _ asshole's done?" Dean asked. "If it was just making a few inappropriate sex jokes here and there, fine, that's  _ annoying _ , but who isn't in high school? But no." He fixed his gaze firmly on me. "This was a consistent, ever-present problem that you and you alone didn't seem to notice was a problem. Because Dennis was your best friend and the reason you were part of the group, the whole group started turning on  _ him _ because of your shitty behavior. You think  _ you're _ the only one who suffered any social fallout for that mess?"

"Wait, hang on," Vicky said, before I could say anything. "I mean, yes, that's not  _ great _ , but that seems more like a conflict of personality and Rose being socially oblivious as hell, which... lines up pretty much perfectly with what I know of her, firsthand. I think maybe you're overestimating just how actively awful Rose is- I won't pretend she can't be annoying and unpleasant, but  _ actively a bad person? _ That's... I don't buy it."

I tore my eyes away from the toilet bowl, finally looking at the pair directly, rather than just in my peripheral vision. Vicky, I couldn't help but notice, was  _ still _ wearing the red beret I'd given her, at the same time as her tiara, which was... a slightly goofy look, but it warmed my heart nonetheless.

"And all that is contingent on what you said being true," she continued. "I'm not saying you're lying, I'm saying you weren't  _ there _ , and  _ Dennis _ might have a skewed perspective."

"Oh?" Dean asked. "Well. We know who  _ was _ there. Why not ask  _ them? _ "

"Rose is a  _ she _ ," Lisa ground out. "And I don't think  _ either _ of us appreciates you tactfully refusing to use her goddamn  _ name _ like a normal person."

"He's right," I said quietly. "That... everything he said was true. That really is what happened, and." I grimaced. "God. None of them deserved that. I  _ still _ feel terrible about what happened."

"No you don't," Dean said firmly. "I see emotions- you  _ really _ think I wouldn't be able to tell you're faking all this contrition? Not even very convincingly, either."

My eyes went wide. That- I-

"This  _ really _ isn't helping, Dean," Vicky said, inhaling sharply through her teeth.

"Especially because he's  _ lying," _ Lisa said, standing up. "Rose  _ isn't sorry? _ Her fucking  _ power _ is the words 'I'm Sorry' written in  _ hundred foot flaming letters! _ And you fucking  _ know _ that, and you're  _ lying  _ about it just because you want her gone."

"I-" Dean began.

Vicky turned to face him, speaking softly. "Dean. Is this true? Did you just lie about what Rose is feeling?"

"I." He swallowed. "She's dangerous and toxic. Trying to drive a wedge between-"

"Dean," she said. "That's not what I asked, and you know it."

"...She may have been feeling it in the moment, but-"

"Why?" Vicky interrupted, cranking up the aura. " _ Why  _ would you lie about  _ this, _ Dean?"

Wait. Was he... oh shit, he was trying to get rid of me because he's jealous,  _ and now it's backfiring hilariously, _ oh my god I shouldn't be grinning but I can't help it. Yeah, shoot me all the dirty looks you like, motherfucker, it won't help.

"Get out of my house, Dean," Lisa said, as Vicky pressed forward and he backed up nervously. "And don't  _ ever _ come back."

He glanced at Vicky, who cranked the aura up even further and spoke quietly. "You heard the lady.  _ Leave." _

He turned and ran, and the front door slammed close not soon after. And then... no sound of an engine turning on?

"Well, plus side of taking my car," Vicky said, turning off the aura. "Little bitch gets to  _ walk _ home."

Ah.

"Well," Lisa said, turning back to face me. "How ya feelin', hon?"

"I would  _ love _ a nap, right about now, if I didn't have insomnia from hell," I said. "As it stands... I'll live."

"I'd offer the next best thing of lying down and cuddling for a while, but..." Vicky sighed as her phone buzzed. "Yep, that'd be that party I have to get back to. I'll... be back soon. Before tomorrow, at least. Are you..."

"I'll be here for her," Lisa said, patting me on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry to leave you right now, but... Yeah."

"I'll see you later," I said, nodding.

"Love you, Rose."

"Love you too."

She left, the door opening and closing after her, and her car starting up before pulling out of the driveway.

"C'mon," Lisa said, as I slowly started to lever myself up. "Let's head upstairs. She had the right idea; you could  _ definitely _ do with some blunt-force reminders that your friends care about you, right about now."

"Sounds good to me," I said quietly, only a little wobbly on my feet.

* * *

Lisa yawned sleepily, nestling in closer to me.

"Getting ready for sleep, hon?" I asked.

"Mhm," she said, nodding gently and rubbing her head against my shoulder.

"Alright, let me up, then," I said. "I have to use the bathroom, and then I'll be out of your hair. Thanks for all this, it...  _ really _ helped a lot."

"Nooooo, staaaay," Lisa whined sleepily.

"I don't sleep, Lisa," I said. "As much as I enjoyed the last three hours of cuddling, I don't think I've got another  _ eight _ left in me, especially if I'm worried about waking you up."

She wordlessly grumbled and groaned as I disentangled us, rolling over into the warm spot I'd left behind as I got out of her bed.

"Night, Lisa," I said. "I love you."

"Love you too, Rose," she said, turning and lifting her head up, half-asleep. "Kiss me goodnight?"

"I... in the morning," I said, quietly. "I am...  _ not _ exactly amped right now to do anything that even  _ approaches _ 'potentially taking advantage of someone.' It's..."

"Mmm. I'm sorry, hon."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I get it."

"...Night."

"Night."

I left her room, and walked into my own, which was furnished oddly, now that I had nobody to answer to except  _ maybe _ Lisa, who'd simply shrugged and said it was my room. I'd read a book from the 70s called 'Build Your Own Living Structures' by Ken Isaacs, and its main thrust was space-saving furniture and structures, which was  _ very _ useful for a small house like ours, and... also, admittedly, I just liked making things.

Which is why my "bed" was actually a pair of four foot cube frames of 2x2s bolted together side-by-side with a twin mattress on top. One cube was a reclining chair with a lap desk supported by the frame, and the other was mostly just a storage space with shelves and the like for books and tools and other odds and ends.

I had  _ just _ sat down in the chair and gotten the lap desk situated when a knocking came from my window. I groaned as I got back up, carefully picking my laptop up and putting it back down.

"Can I come in?" Vicky asked, as I opened the window.

"What, is using the door beneath you?" I asked.

"The door  _ is _ literally beneath me right now, yes," Vicky said, grinning.

"Alright, c'mon in," I said, stepping back and letting her worm her way through the gap, which... okay, didn't need to know I was into that, but now I know anyways. "What's up?"

"Bluh," she said simply. "Bluh is what's up. Today was... fucking  _ awful, _ I'm sure you can relate."

"I promised to let you complain at length after the party," I offered, closing the window behind her.

"That'd be nice, but... no, I already got most of my bitching out with Amy, sorry," Vicky said, taking off the tiara and beret and setting them on one of the shelves, before kicking off her boots and hopping up onto my bed. "But that does remind me... I promised we'd talk about our relationship at some point, yeah? Well, uh. I guess now's a good time to do that."

"Alright," I said, sitting down on the bed beside her. "Thanks for sticking up for me to your boyfriend, by the way. It... means more than I can express with words, honestly."

"Who, Dean?" Vicky said. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but he's not my boyfriend anymore. I'm single now."

"Ah. And... you want to talk about our relationship."

"That is correct."

" _ Ah." _

"I'll have you know that I've been kinda attracted to you this whole time," Vicky continued. "I always thought that my shitty transphobic brain was refusing to recognize you as a girl, so I ignored it. And  _ then _ I saw you all gussied up like this, and I think it's high time I admit to myself that no, I'm not straight, I just like girls."

"...Congratulations," I said nervously.

"And now here I am, in bed with my best friend, both of us single," she said, her voice gliding down into a husky whisper. "The fact I want her right there, out in the open... And I kinda have to ask, now, Rose... How do  _ you _ feel about  _ me?" _

I thought for a moment about how soon this was after she broke up with Dean, how tumultuous of a day this had been, how much this could potentially ruin  _ everything... _

...And then I shoved all that from my mind, wrapping my arms around Vicky's back, pulling her close and tight, and kissing her.


	15. Rewind

"Penny for your thoughts?" Vicky asked, the two of us laying down face-to-face on my fairly cramped twin bed.

"Right now? Thinking about how big of an idiot I was for getting this tiny-ass bed," I said. "I don't sleep. I have literally no use for it whatsoever that  _ doesn't _ involve another person. And yet my dumb ass  _ still _ said 'yeah, a Twin XL mattress is big enough for me, let's not get excessive.'"

She snorted. "Okay, let's try this again- remember the first time we met?"

* * *

_ "Penny for your thoughts?" I asked, mopping the diner floor at one twenty three in the morning. _

_ "What if apples screamed when you bit into them?" Vicky asked. _

_ "Oh my god," Crystal whispered. _

_ "Do they scream only when you bite into them, or is it a general response to trauma?" I asked. "Like, what if you tried peeling an apple and it started yodeling? Or cutting it into wedges for a pie, and it sang Gilbert and Sullivan?" _

_ "...I like this one, can I keep him?" Vicky asked, turning to face her cousin. _

_ "Please for the love of god stop hitting on service workers who are on the clock," Crystal said. "Besides, you already have a boyfriend." _

_ "What about other fruits?" I continued, ignoring their byplay. "What kind of sound do we get from a plum?" _

* * *

"Oh yeah, I remember that," I said.

"Made one hell of a first impression," Vicky said. "That's honestly kinda... the core appeal, of our relationship, y'know?"

"Oh?"

"Just... that we can be unapologetically  _ weird _ with each other, without judgement," Vicky explained. "It's a sort of vulnerability, being openly weird around someone. It's honestly, like.  _ Really _ intimate. And then... last summer, back when I thought you were a dude, I had to keep, like, a certain barrier in my mind, because like. Y'know that thing people say about how men and women can't  _ really _ be friends? And with Dean, and. Yeah. And  _ then, _ when you introduced yourself as Rose earlier this summer, it was like... the barrier came down, and we got closer, talking about things with each other that we pretty much  _ couldn't _ talk about with anyone else, and..."

She sighed.

"Honestly, this is probably not a great sign, but honestly I already kinda felt closer to you than to Dean even before today. First time I noticed it was... around the time Mom took down Coil," Vicky said. "And then I just sorta ignored it and hoped it went away on its own."

"How'd that work out for you?"

"Well, I have a girlfriend now, so, pretty well actually."

"Fair enough," I said.

We were silent for a moment.

"Sorry, but... What  _ happened?" _ Vicky asked.

"Beg pardon?" I asked.

"With... With you and Dennis. What's  _ your _ story, there? Dean's version was kinda thirdhand when I heard it, and... apparently, slanted towards making you look bad, so... What happened, as far as  _ you _ remember?" Vicky asked.

"It's... Well, how much do you know about Dennis?" I asked.

"I know he's trans, yeah," Vicky said. "He's a lot of the reason most of the junior heroes in town know about these sorts of issues."

"Alright, well, he's the reason  _ I _ know about that sort of thing, too," I said. "It was sophomore year we met, and once we got to actually  _ talking _ , we were fast friends. Some shared interests here and there- Mass Effect, Homestuck, the works... It was good. He introduced me to some of his friends, and I got on okay with most of them. Didn't care for Miranda, who's this tiny cute little white girl who's also just aggressively the worst person in the world and got mad that I wouldn't tolerate her stealing my stuff for shits and giggles, but for the most part it was fine.

"Well, one day we were talking about Homestuck, and the subject of Homestuck's...  _ unique _ approach to romantic frameworks came up. And we agreed on a formal arrangement of, basically, being emotional support buddies for each other." I sighed. "It worked out just fine for him. I gave him the advice and courage necessary to ask out his now girlfriend..."

"Is the Miranda he's dating the same Miranda you just talked a lot of shit about?" Vicky asked.

"Unless he broke up with her and started dating  _ another _ girl named Miranda, then probably," I said.

"Okay, that... I can see how that might've been a little upsetting at the time."

"Yeah, a little," I said. "I'd been kinda pining for him at the time, and... okay, y'know that thing you said about how you thought your attraction to me was, at first, just your brain refusing to acknowledge me as a girl? I'm pretty sure that's what was  _ actually _ happening to  _ me _ with Dennis- I didn't fully register in the back of my brain that he was a dude, and..." I sighed. "Yeah, that was a mess. Anyhow, when it came to  _ my _ emotional support, things were... less good. I think Dennis just... wasn't really equipped to do that for me. And so when I started kinda losing touch with the group and started getting more and more ignored...

"Well, according to my therapist, who I didn't start seeing until a little  _ before _ everything just completely fell apart, I have what's called Histrionic Personality Disorder. I feel intense discomfort at being ignored,  _ and _ I have something of a pathological tendency towards, what's the phrasing... inappropriately sexually provocative behavior."

"...Oh," she said quietly.

"So you can see how that would make me respond to being ignored with sex jokes."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Vicky said. "That's... pretty rough, yeah."

"Mhm. I mean, I don't exactly blame anyone for being uncomfortable with a white teenage boy who didn't understand boundaries and was constantly turning everything into a dick joke, but... Yeah. It was... a mess. For everyone." I sighed. "Much as it hurt... probably is for the best that I just keep my distance from them. There... really isn't anything to be gained by trying to relitigate that disaster."

"If we were all just teenagers, sure, but..." She sighed. "Okay, so, Dean tried to claim that you were trying to drive a wedge between New Wave and the PRT, because you were affiliated with New Wave and Dennis is a Ward, and supposedly this issue would be so polarizing that nobody in either camp would work with the other. Which... I don't buy? Like, don't get me wrong, this isn't gonna personally endear you to anyone, but... I mean, we're all capes. Working with difficult and unpleasant personalities is something we do all the goddamn time, and you've proven yourself perfectly capable of acting professionally in costume."

"Hang on, did Dean try to leverage the fact that you two are a bridge between the PRT and New Wave in this mess?"

"He did, and yes I already yelled at him for trying it. Told him if it was  _ so important _ to the safety of the city that someone from New Wave be dating someone in the Wards, then I'd go suck Kid Win's dick."

"...I hesitate to ask but how did that go over?" I asked.

"He wasn't a fan," Vicky said airily. "Not sure why." She sighed. "Uh, so... question."

"Hm?"

"How do you feel about Lisa?" Vicky asked.

"...Uh, I like her well enough," I said carefully. "She's pretty friendly. Sharp wit and a sharper tongue, but she's nice when it counts."

"Cool, cool. Would you object if I was dating her too? Because, uh. No offense but she was  _ also _ part of me learning that I liked girls."

"I beg your pardon."

"Rose, have you ever watched her put on jeans?" Vicky asked. "It's a religious experience."

"I- okay, I get that you're attracted to Lisa, which I will not comment on further, but what's throwing me is the idea that you're proposing polyamory."

"If you're not cool with it, I'll drop it," she said.

"Now now, don't go putting words in my mouth," I said. "I didn't say I  _ wasn't _ on board with us tag-team dating Lisa. I was just surprised you proposed it. And... uncertain if  _ she'd _ go for it. I... have reason to suspect she'd be willing to date  _ me-" _ Considering she'd asked for a kiss goodnight like five minutes ago... "But I have no idea if she'd be willing to date  _ you _ , or to date  _ both of us _ at the  _ same time." _

"Good news!" Lisa declared as she threw open my bedroom door, standing there in a bathrobe. "I totally am, now c'mon, my bed's larger."

"Jesus  _ christ _ , Lisa, you're supposed to  _ knock  _ first!" I said. "What if I was naked?"

"What, you  _ really _ think I move that fast?" Vicky asked.

"God, I love you two nerds," Lisa muttered. "Now come  _ on, _ I want another hug sandwich, this time with kisses."

"Sounds good to me," Vicky said. "Rose?"

"I'm in."

* * *

As Lisa and Vicky slipped ever deeper into slumber, I got up carefully- using my power to be certain I didn't wake them- and crept out to my own room, checking my phone in the process. I had... more than a few texts to go through, after silencing my phone and going near-catatonic for hours.

Vicky: okay wow dean is a fucking prick   
Vicky: he is making the compelling argument that ive been spending less time with him this summer because of you   
Vicky: unfortunately he is also reminding me of why thats the case   
Vicky: namely that i like you more than i like him   
Vicky: so guess whos single now

Amy: Rose, what the FUCK did you do?????   
Amy: Oh hey Vicky's breaking up with Dean. Cool. I fucking hate that guy.   
Amy: Oh my god Rose this is the best thing I've ever seen.   
Amy: Rose I just want you to know if you ever need a favor from me, all you have to do is ask. I take back what I said about not helping you transition. Hell, I'll even suck your dick if you want.   
Amy: Okay that may have been a little over the line. I'm sorry.   
Amy: Rose? You there?

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, before starting to type out a response.

Rose: Hey sorry, I was busy trying and failing to sleep off a panic attack.   
Amy: What the hell happened?   
Rose: Oh, you know how it is, I ran into the guy who caused my trigger event and neither of us liked that very much. Next thing you know Dean's involved, and people are yelling at each other...   
Rose: The end result is, I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that last offer of yours, on account I am now, somehow, dating your sister.   
Amy: you fucking what   
Rose: Yeah I was pretty caught off-guard too.   
Amy: what the fuck   
Rose: Apparently Vicky really doesn't like being single, and as soon as she broke up with Dean, she decided to move on to her new best friend. And also her best friend's roommate.   
Amy: Hang on what   
Amy: Is that messy bitch dating two girls at once???   
Rose: That is currently the case, yes.   
Amy: What the fuck did you do to my sister???   
Rose: Well it all started last summer, when she asked, what if apples screamed when we bit into them, and I decided to take that premise and make it even weirder.   
Rose: From there we just got progressively more and more weird with each other until she flew into my room through my window and asked if she could make out with my roommate.   
Amy: ...   
Amy: And then the talent agent said, that's a pretty good show you got there, what do you call that act?   
Rose: The Aristocrats!   
Amy: So what now?   
Rose: Fucked if I know. The world turns and life goes on. Tomorrow's a new day. I'll see it when it gets here.


	16. Blood And Bone

"Hell yeah," I said, looking in the mirror. "That's...  _ perfect.  _ Thanks, Ames."

"Hey, at least you're paying me," Amy said, before taking a bite of homemade coffee cake. "Everything feel right? Nothing's weird?"

"Seems fine to me," I said, feeling around my jaw. I was still quite sharp-featured, but... if anything,  _ moreso, _ as Amy made my jaw less square and lantern-like. More importantly, my skin was smoother, with all the hair below my eyebrows having been removed permanently. "Can I get a second opinion?"

"I like your tits," Vicky said, with an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Oh my god," Amy muttered quietly, shaking her head. "Flirt on your own time."

"Can I say that I like Rose's hips better now?" Lisa asked.

"I barely changed them, but sure," Amy said, shaking her head. "God. Two girlfriends, Vicky? Save some for the rest of us, you greedy bitch."

"I wasn't aware you liked girls," Vicky said.

"That's... let me get back to you on that," Amy said quietly. "It's... complicated."

"So you  _ don't _ want me to set you up on a date with that Akane girl we know at Arcadia," Vicky said.

"Considering that Akane asked me if I could turn her into a catgirl, no, especially not her," Amy said. "I'd rather not date a chaser."

"I'm...  _ very _ grateful I don't have the experience to relate to that," I said. "Also very grateful that I'm dating anyone at all, but that's a different story."

"Technically not dating, on account we haven't gone on an actual date," Lisa said. "We  _ still _ haven't worked out how, exactly, we're gonna present in public. Polyamory is...  _ fairly unconventional, _ let's say, and adding that on top of lesbianism, and the fact that Rose is trans- which might or might not become public knowledge- and that might kick off a  _ huge _ shitstorm in the media, which is kinda bad for New Wave, since the rumor mill is  _ still _ chewing on Vicky's birthday party from two weeks ago."

"That reminds me of one idea I had," Vicky said. "Amy, would you be willing to publicly fake-date either Lisa or Rose for the purposes of double-dates?"

"No, no I would not," Amy said.

"Aw, c'mon," Vicky said. "Rose'll bake you some more coffee cake?"

"There is no coffee cake good enough in this world that will make me okay with torpedoing my own chances of getting a date just so  _ you _ can have  _ two girlfriends," _ Amy said. "Just pick one to date publicly and stick with that like a normal person."

"But that's  _ laaaaame," _ Vicky said. "Ugh. Okay, plan b, I'll ask Crystal or something."

"Honey, Crystal hates me," I said gently.

"No, Crystal hates  _ Joe Norman," _ Vicky said conspiratorially. "She's never even  _ met _ Rose Corcoran."

"She also has one hell of a sweet tooth," Amy added, still munching on coffee cake. "So really, there's two ways this plays out- she says no and pitches a fit, or she says yes and then steals your girlfriend and for-real dates her. Either way, I wanna be there to watch."

"You're a bitch," Vicky said primly.

"Oh, Rose, Crystal fucking loves puns, too," Amy added. "Seduce her with wordplay."

"What, just walk up and start making puns at her?" I asked. "I mean, I got a few tree puns, but a first impression seems like a bad time for acorny joke."

"I think we should see other people," Vicky said.

Amy finished off her slice of coffee cake, then dusted off her hands. "Alright, well, I'm done. Let's go home."

* * *

"We're home!" Vicky called out as the three of us- Lisa had stayed at home to do some work- entered the Dallon household. "Rose brought coffee cake!"

"I made too much," I added as we headed down the front hall to the main living area. "Overestimated how much it... makes..."

"Hello, Victoria," Dean said, sitting at the kitchen table and casually sipping from a mug of coffee. There was an open manila folder in front of him, and some documents and charts spread over the kitchen table. "Rose. We were discussing genealogy- I make a hobby of it, from time to time. I took the liberty of drafting your family tree, Rose, and I must say, I've learned some  _ fascinating _ things about you."

"Cool, I don't give a shit," I said flatly. "The hell you think  _ you're _ doing here?"

"You do  _ not _ speak like that in  _ my _ household," Carol snapped, sitting across from him, a distressingly fierce look on her face, her lip curled back to bare a canine tooth just a  _ little _ more than was strictly necessary. "Dean, please continue."

"Your mother's side of the family is surprisingly expansive," Dean said, picking up a chart I finally recognized as a family tree. "Why, did you know that, through your mother's eldest sister, you're actually a first cousin to the Marquis, one of the most infamous villains in Brockton Bay's history?"

I blinked a few times. I'd heard of Marquis once or twice, but he was before my time, being captured back in 2000-ish by...

...by what would become New Wave, in an uncharacteristically bold and aggressive move that suggested a personal grudge.

"Just something I thought was interesting," Dean said, taking another sip of coffee.

"You can  _ keep _ your coffee cake," Carol said, planting her palms flat on the table and lifting herself up, her back hunched over, and her legs bent ever so slightly like she was about to vault it and start disemboweling me. "Take it with you, along with your  _ goddamn _ little cousin." She pointed accusingly, at... Amy? "That little  _ leech _ has been coasting on my mercy and grace for long enough- she can go live with the  _ rest _ of her vile  _ family." _

"I beg your pardon?" Dean asked. "Carol, you didn't mention-"

"She's adopted," Carol said, chuckling to herself, a manic grin slowly creeping its way across her face. "Who the  _ hell _ do you think we adopted her  _ from, _ Dean? She's a biokinetic. The Marquis was  _ also _ a biokinetic, and we  _ raided his house. _ Fool I was, assuming you were more than a pretty face..."

"Mom, you're being manipulated," Vicky said, stepping forward.

"Yes, by your little 'girlfriend' who invited herself into my house, tricked me into working with her, insinuated her way into everyone's good graces- No more! You  _ cannot _ hide this from me  _ any longer _ , you goddamned  _ snake! _ Now  _ get out of my house!" _

I could wipe memories with a touch. Erase Carol's memory of her conversation with Dean, tell her she slipped and hit her head in the kitchen and got a concussion, and evict Dean and those documents in the meantime...

...And then have everyone else present be quite upset with me for mindwiping their mother. And  _ then _ have no guarantee that Dean  _ wouldn't _ just  _ try this again. _ And  _ then _ be every bit the manipulative monster he's painting me as.

"Alright, then," I said with a shrug. "Someone give me a call when she's done having an episode." I turned to leave, but Vicky stopped me.

"No," she said. "I am  _ not _ letting this  _ petulant shitbag _ turn my  _ own mother _ against you like this."

"I...  _ really _ don't want to stick around to watch this play out," I said. "I'm leaving."

"Take me with you," Amy said.

Vicky sighed.

Amy and I walked back down the hall towards the front door, and before I could put on my shoes to leave, I heard the sound of someone descending the stairs, over the dull roar of shouting and arguing.

"The hell is going on in there?" Mark asked, looking for all the world like he'd just woken up.

"Today we all learned that apparently I'm first cousins with that old supervillain, Marquis," I said. "Carol is...  _ upset _ about it, shall we say. So, uh. Would you mind going and talking to her about it, help her calm down?"

"...You're related to Marquis?" Mark asked.

"Apparently? I don't know," I said with a shrug. "Dean dug through my family history for dirt and either hit the motherlode or just straight up made this up along with some convincing-looking evidence. Either way, Amy and I are making ourselves scarce while this blows over."

"That's... probably for the b- is that coffee cake?"

"I'd offer you some, but your wife insisted I take it back out of the house with me, along with your daughter," I said. "I'll bring it by later."

Mark nodded, grunting quietly as he descended the last few stairs, before psyching himself up with a few light slaps to his cheeks. "Urgh. Once more unto the breach..."

Amy and I stepped out the front door, down the front path, down the driveway, and back to my car.

"Well," I said, unlocking the doors. "That was- oh what the  _ fuck _ now?"

Dean hurried out of the house and towards us. "Hang on, Amy," Dean said. "Are you  _ sure _ you want to go with Rose? I know you and your mother don't always get along, but staying with Rose is just going to prove she's  _ right _ , that you  _ are _ just like her."

"Hm, let me think, do I want to go back to hanging out at my friend's house, or do I want to spend time with  _ you, _ the asshole who  _ started _ this whole mess in the  _ first _ place!" Amy yelled. "Fuck you! You're trying to ruin Rose's life, and you didn't even  _ blink _ when I turned out to be  _ collateral fucking damage!" _

"Amy, that's-" he began, before I interrupted him.

"Now now, Amy, that's very uncharitable of you," I said in a lecturing tone. "You're a valuable asset in his plan- after all, if the heroes discover that  _ he's _ the reason you're not on speaking terms with New Wave or the PRT, he might actually face  _ consequences, _ and we can't have that, can we?" I asked.

"You shut your  _ goddamn mouth, _ Rose," Dean snarled, rounding on me as he approached. "I have had it up to  _ here _ with your-"

I got into the car and closed the door, and Amy quickly followed suit.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, as the engine started. "Get back here! You can't just-"

I backed out of the driveway, and drove off, humming quietly.

"...So," I said, taking the first corner on the way back to my house. "...We're cousins, huh?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Amy said quietly.

I kinda  _ did- _ it made too much sense, with us having the same hair, the same colorblindness, even the same skin- except the freckles, maybe she got those from her mom. And, we were both healers, after a fashion.

I held my tongue, though.

* * *

Several hours later, Amy and I were playing Halo again, and Lisa was sitting in my lap, trying to distract me. The doorbell rang, and I winced, caught off-guard by the sudden noise, and Amy paused the game, setting her controller aside and getting up to answer the door.

Standing in the doorway was her sister, and Amy smiled. Then Amy noticed the pained look on her sister's face, and the resigned set of her shoulders, and the suitcases and cardboard boxes with Amy's name on them piled behind her.

And Amy cried.


	17. Heals All Wounds

It was one in the morning when Amy gently tapped on my door. I told her to come in, and she shuffled in all wrapped up in a big, fluffy blanket.

"Hey," I said quietly. "Can't sleep?"

She didn't answer, nudging the door closed behind her with her foot, and then collapsing onto the floor, still wrapped up in her blanket.

"...Wanna talk about it?" I asked. "Or should I just shut up?"

She groaned, long and low, into the floor, building up to a crescendo that was either a wordless yell or the beginning of an aborted sobbing fit. "I don't  _ know," _ Amy wailed. "I want to go  _ home, _ damnit!"

"I'm sorry," I said. "You didn't deserve any of this."

She buried her face in blanket, muffling the subsequent screaming. I winced, and tried desperately to figure out how the hell I was supposed to comfort her. I was a bit out of practice, and Dennis and I had talked most over text.

Finally, Amy fell silent, and rolled over onto her back.

"...Where are your parents?" Amy asked.

"At their own house, probably wondering where the hell their son went a month ago," I said. "Both of us have left our childhood homes, now... although, I left of my own free will. That choice was taken from you. I'm sorry."

"Mm. What were they  _ like?" _ Amy asked.

"Not... all that great. I was the youngest of five children and only the eldest had been planned on. The rest of us just happened. Their attention was spread thin, and... a lot of the times, when their attention  _ was _ on me, it was unpleasant. Mom kinda just didn't give a shit about anyone, and Dad once told me I was lucky he didn't beat me."

"Oh," Amy said quietly.

"I'm not sure whether or not I fully believe that we  _ are _ cousins, but... if we really are, I'm still not introducing you to the rest of the family," I said. "I left for a reason."

She grunted, and sighed.

"Don't feel like I won't be sympathetic if  _ you _ have any complaining to do," I added. "In all honesty, you probably have it worse than I did."

She rolled back over onto her front.

"You can take my bed if you want, I sure as hell don't use it," I said.

"There's a bed in here?"

"Yeah, on top of this loft thingy."

"...Fucking tall people."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't imagining anyone  _ else _ would be getting in it when I built this damn thing," I said as Amy got up and scrabbled up into my bed. Her being five foot two, it was something of a challenge to get up, until she finally found the minimalist ladder that didn't really stand out from the rest of the frame. "Especially not you."

"I would  _ really  _ fucking appreciate it if you didn't make incest jokes," Amy said.

"Sorry," I said.

"I'm just...  _ really _ fucking on edge right now, and...  _ urgh." _

"I'm sorry, hon," I said. "My offer of a hug still stands, if you think it'd help."

"...I'll keep that in mind," she said quietly. "...Have you heard from Vicky?"

"No. Lisa said Carol took her phone away," I said.

"Oh thank god," Amy muttered. "I was... nevermind, it's stupid."

"Worried that Vicky turned on you too?" I suggested.

"...yeah," she said quietly.

"She didn't, I promise," I said. "You did nothing wrong here."

"I  _ did _ though!" Amy said. "I- Dean  _ knows  _ about it, no way he  _ doesn't _ , he must've told them, and- oh god she  _ hates  _ me! There's  _ no way  _ she  _ doesn't!" _

"Amy, what are you talking about?" I asked, carefully climbing out of my chair, trying not to dislodge the hanging lap desk.

"I loved her!" Amy wailed. "I fell in love with my  _ fucking _ sister, and Dean  _ knows it _ , and there's no  _ way _ she doesn't  _ hate me _ now for being an  _ incestuous fucking freak!" _

...What.

"That's... kind of awkward and uncomfortable, but that's the sort of thing you address by talking about it, not by throwing someone out of the house and never speaking to them again," I said.

"And- and- oh god," Amy cried, not listening. "God, she's the  _ only _ person who used to touch me and- I had to make her stop, because every time she hugged me I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss her, and- oh  _ god _ I fucking  _ hate _ myself,  _ why am I like this?!" _

I couldn't think of a response to that. I mean, this was disgusting and shocking, but... honestly, Amy was more pitiful than awful, here. It's not like she was sitting here fantasizing happily about kissing her sister, she was clearly distressed by it.

She fell silent. I sighed.

"Would you like a hug?" I asked.

"I- no," Amy said quietly. "I- I can't- I'm  _ afraid, _ Rose."

"Of... what?"

"My power," she said. "I- I don't _heal_ people, you know? I _reshape_ them. Move skin and fat and muscle and bone where I want it. I _use_ that to heal people, sometimes- like with you- to make them look different... But if I let myself? I... I could reshape their _brain,_ too. Change how they think. I could've made you think you were a boy, instead of changing your body. But... what I _wanted_ to do?" She swallowed nervously. "I wanted to make you hate Vicky. And then make _her_ _love me._ And. I _could_ do that. I can't stop _fucking_ thinking about, about how _easy_ it would be, just... two little pokes. That easy. So- so, I _cannot_ trust myself to touch you. Not... not like." She swallowed loudly. "It'd be so easy," she repeated, barely above a whisper. "And then she'd never leave me again, and I'd never have to be alone."

I blinked a few times. That sounded familiar.  _ Very _ familiar.

"Okay, Amy, I'm... going to ask you a few questions," I said, leaning and reaching through the armchair portion of the loft bed to the bookshelf portion and grabbing a familiar, weighty tome off the shelf and flipping to a bookmarked page. "Is that okay?"

"Fine, whatever," Amy said. "You're not gonna be able to fix a freak like me, but you probably can't make me any  _ worse." _

"How active and present were your parents in raising you?" I asked.

"...Not very," Amy admitted. "Mark has clinical depression, and wasn't really active and present for  _ anything _ , and... Carol never wanted me. We don't even know when my fucking birthday is, because she never bothered to ask, and I was adopted young enough that I just fucking  _ forgot." _ That... didn't seem right, but I didn't know enough about her family life to dispute that.

"Are you, by any chance, prone to mood swings?" I asked.

"I... kinda?" Amy said. "I... don't really know, or if it's normal, or..."

"Fair," I said, nodding. "How about black-and-white thinking? Like, about Dean for example- you're mad at him right now, yes? Can you still think of a few positive qualities he might have?"

"Uh... no?" Amy asked. "Dude's a fucking shithead. Why would I have  _ anything _ positive to say about  _ him _ of all people?"

"Have you ever had moments where you  _ hated _ Victoria, and couldn't think of a single positive thing about her?"

"I- th-" Amy swallowed. "Um. I... once or twice. B-but it never lasted very long, though!"

I snapped the book shut. "Quick disclaimer, I am  _ not _ a psychologist, but I  _ do _ have Histrionic Personality Disorder, and as such I have made a personal study of the Cluster B Personality Disorders, and am reasonably well-versed in them. And with that in mind, I am reasonably confident that you, Amelia Dallon, have Borderline Personality Disorder. Your fixation on your sister is most likely a recognized phenomenon called a 'Favorite Person'- it isn't at all unusual for someone with BPD to have sexual or romantic feelings for their Favorite Person. Yes, even when that's inappropriate- it's not called Borderline Personality  _ Disorder _ because your brain works just fine and in reasonable ways." I sighed. "So, no. You are  _ not _ a uniquely fucked-up freak. You're a mentally ill teenager who desperately needs therapy and maybe a few coping mechanisms. But you're  _ not _ inherently evil and unworthy of love. I know you don't, and  _ can't, _ fully believe me right now, but... It's true.

"And," I added. "I know you said you wanted to go home, but... if you ever decide otherwise, and I do mean  _ ever, _ you are  _ always _ welcome in my home, for as long as you like. Years from now, if you decide you're sick of making your own breakfast every morning, you can still show up at my doorstep with no explanation, and I'll let you right in. We're family. And... I love you."

Amy swallowed audibly. "...I love you too, Rose."

"How are you feeling, now?"

"Still- still not great." She sighed. "Um."

I didn't say anything.

"...I think... could... could I have a hug, now?" Amy asked.

"Of course, angel. Ames-gel."

"I changed my mind, fuck you."

* * *

Amy fell asleep in my arms, and for a good half hour, I didn't bother to dislodge her, wanting to seep in her memories for a while instead. Seeing every bad thing that ever happened to her- every night of disappointment where Mom and Dad didn't come home and dinner was a peanut butter sandwich, the first few birthdays(July 7th, incidentally) after her adoption where she expected  _ something _ that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Every ache, bruise, and sprain from judo practice. Every late night in hospital, trying to assuage her guilt and the conviction that she  _ must _ be a terrible person. Every crying fit.

I thought about one of the defining traits of BPD. A fear of abandonment. And then, with great effort, I  _ carefully _ transferred a still-sleeping Amy and the mattress to the floor, in full view of the front of my chair, before finally getting back into it and settling in for a long night. 

I shot off an email to Lady Photon, asking her to find time to visit sometime tomorrow(later today? It  _ was _ one thirty... eh, time is fake). Hopefully... hopefully she won't recognize me.

This conversation was gonna be hard enough, without her knowing who I am and hating me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little coda to this chapter:
> 
> I, the author, have Histrionic Personality Disorder. My wife has Borderline Personality Disorder. My intent in writing Amy as having BPD is based in a place of sympathy and understanding, and personal experience in the matter.


	18. Under The Bridge

"Surprise, I'm alive," I said as recognition and horror flashed across Sarah Pelham- Lady Photon in costume-'s face. "Please, have a seat, we have... a lot to talk about. I have a list, actually."

"Are you going to be  _ professional _ about this, at least?" she asked, eyeing the chair opposite me.

"As much as a mentally ill teenager is capable of being," I said with a shrug. "I'll try not to annoy you any more than is strictly necessary. I'm... aware you may not have the best impression of me, after the last several times we've met."

"When you stopped showing up to work at the diner, I thought you had gotten hit by a car," Sarah said.

"Sorry to worry you," I said.

"There's nothing to apologize for," she said. "Moving on- the list?"

"Right, right," I said, consulting the list. "Item one: I am, apparently, first cousin to the supervillain Marquis. When Carol was informed of this by a third party, she seemed to have some sort of paranoid episode, losing her composure and good sense, and kicking her daughter out of the house in the process. Victoria and Mark tried their best to calm her down and walk her back from that ledge, but... failed to accomplish that. I was hoping you might be able to add to that effort?"

"Wait, you're related to  _ the Marquis?" _ Sarah asked.

"As far as anyone can tell... apparently?" I said with a shrug. "I never met the guy. I've got a big family, I'm related to a  _ lot _ of people."

"That's... strange," Sarah muttered. "Usually, capes with blood ties have similar powers- Carol and I both have light-based powers, and yet the Marquis had control over bones. How that could  _ possibly _ parlay into time-manipulation..."

"Like you said,  _ usually," _ I said with a shrug. "Again, I've never met the man once in my life. Anyhow, your sister is severely distressed and having a breakdown,  _ perhaps _ that's more important than the minutiae of superpowers?"

"Sorry, it's just... The Marquis was a  _ big deal, _ you know? That you're related to him..."

"He's been in the ground for ten years," I said. "He  _ does not matter _ right now. Your sister?  _ Does." _

"Right, right, sorry. So, who  _ is _ this third party who discovered this before you did?" Sarah asked.

"Dean Stansfield, Victoria's recently ex-boyfriend," I said. "He hates me partly because of that, and partly because he's best friends with one Dennis West, and however much you and your children hate me, Dennis hates me  _ much _ more than that... for, admittedly, more or less the same reasons of me being personally repellant and bad with boundaries. And that was all Dean knew of me before we met, so... he was less than receptive to me spending any amount of time around his girlfriend."

"So, wait," Sarah asked. "Victoria broke up with him because of you, correct?"

"More or less. He tried to force me out of her life, she responded poorly, they're no longer dating and now she and I are talking about maybe dating ourselves. Well, we were. The matter is rather complicated now."

"Right. See,  _ normal _ teen drama would be him spreading nasty rumors about you amongst the Wards- that would be bad, obviously, but understandable. Digging up or fabricating evidence that you're related to a supervillain, and then manipulating Carol into a paranoid breakdown over it to get  _ her _ to put an end to your and Victoria's relationship, crosses at  _ least _ three lines, and that's just what I can count from where I stand," Sarah said. "This isn't something you talk to an adult about, this is something you go to  _ the police _ about."

"You enforce the law for a living."

"...So I do."

"More importantly, so does  _ Dean, _ and he does it on Uncle Sam's dime. Dude's untouchable, insofar as someone with my means is concerned. I just wanna make this be over; I don't give a shit about him 'seeing justice' or whatever, I just want my cousin's home life to get un-fucked, and for Dean to run out of bullshit to try."

"...Home life?" Sarah asked.

"Carol and Mark are not particularly attentive or good parents, and Amy very probably has Borderline Personality Disorder," I explained. "Which is Item Three- would you  _ please, _ for your niece's sake, see to it that she gets in front of a fucking therapist at some point? She is in  _ desperate _ need of one."

"Of course, of course," Sarah said, nodding. "What was item two?"

"The subject of Dean Stansfield. Uh, let's see... Item Four, would you please take that goddamn coffee cake with you when you leave? I made way the hell too much of it and overestimated my and my roommate's sweet tooths."

"I'm sure it'll go a long way to smoothing over some ruffled feathers," Sarah said. "Anything else?"

"Item Five, what the hell did Marquis  _ do _ to Carol to make her so paranoid about the  _ suggestion _ of him?"

Sarah sighed. "It's... a story we've told in public before. The short version is... we were kidnapped, once, and Carol got Stockholm Syndrome.  _ Then _ , because the ransom fell through, the kidnappers decided to just kill us instead, and... we triggered. Carol... has had serious trust issues after that. She used to see a therapist about it, years and years ago, but then she got pregnant with Victoria, and..." She sighed. "Something about Marquis triggered her paranoia,  _ very _ badly. He was a crime boss, sure, but he pretended very successfully at civility- never hurt women or children, and made messy examples of his men who failed to live up to that. Even went so far as to never  _ attack _ me, her, or Fleur, even in the fight where we broke into his home to arrest him. And... that was it- he acted like a perfectly honorable and trustworthy man, who just so happened to rip men's spines out of their backs for angering him."

"...I can see why she didn't much like him," I said carefully. "Jesus."

"So, the fact that you have never once had an inappropriate thought you didn't immediately give voice to-"

"Hey!"

"-probably helped soften the...  _ betrayal, _ I guess, of you turning out to bear the blood of her once mortal enemy," Sarah said. "That... is what it comes down to, isn't it? Betrayal."

"...It... sounds like?" I said hesitantly. "I don't fucking know,  _ you're _ the one who's been dealing with your sister for longer than I've been alive. Look, just... is this gonna work? Does Amy get to go home?"

"I can't say for sure, but... If all else fails, I'll take her," Sarah said. "I  _ should've, _ all those years ago- it would've been hard, but-"

"Reminisce on your own time. You got shit to do." I sighed. "Good luck."

"I'm gonna need it," she said in a voice far more reminiscent of Harrison Ford's than I was expecting.

* * *

"Come in," Amy said after I knocked on her door.

"Alright, I talked to Sarah," I said, opening the door and walking in. "She'll talk to Carol, and also said that, if all else fails, she'll take you in, if that's what you want. Dunno if that's what you want, but it's an option now if you decide you want cooking that's better than mine."

"Aunt Sarah can't cook to save her life," Amy said, shaking her head as I closed the door behind me. She was laying on her front in her bed, reading a book she hadn't quite torn her attention away from completely. "The Pelhams don't call it a smoke alarm, they call it the  _ dinner bell." _

"Oh, hey, my old family too," I said. "And lemme guess, her husband can't cook anything but spaghetti or steak?"

"His go-tos are actually  _ lasagna _ and  _ hamburgers, _ but close enough," Amy said. "It's weird- Mark is this useless, depressed sad-sack-" I didn't outwardly object to her talking shit about him like this, but I  _ did _ feel like she was being more than a little shitty about depressed people, here. "-but he cooks like he's got Gordon Ramsay riding him and pulling his hair."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Like in Ratatouille? The rat on the chef's head controlling him by pulling his hair?"

"Oh, okay. I kinda thought you meant your dad cooks like he's being fucked in the ass by Gordon Ramsay, which is kind of a weird thing to say, but, well." I shrugged. "I mean, you're related to  _ me _ of all people, so that's not  _ that _ surprising."

"God, don't remind me," Amy said, shaking her head. "I appreciate that you took me in, and have been this kind and patient and caring with me, but at the same time, Rose, you are the most aggressively obnoxious person I have  _ ever _ met in my  _ life. _ And I regularly go out and deal with the general public as a superhero."

"...Yeah, that's fair," I said with a shrug.

"This isn't 'your personality isn't for everyone,'" Amy continued. "This is 'you are very difficult to like and you seriously need to improve as a person because who you are at the moment is tremendously obnoxious and unlikeable, and you will die alone if my sister gets sick of your shit.'"

"...Oh," I said quietly.

"So, uh." Amy coughed. "No, I don't think I'll be staying here, if I have other options. I think I'd prefer to like you from afar."

"That's... that's fair, yeah," I said, sighing. "Sorry."

"Mmn."

We fell silent for a few moments.

"...You still on for D&D, if this mess blows over in time?" I asked.

"Yeah, for sure," Amy said, nodding. "I  _ need _ to be there when Vicky realizes that this adventure in a kingdom ruled by a dragon wizard and peopled by turtle-shelled kobolds and perambulatory mushrooms is, in fact, an extended Mario reference."

"You'd think the red-and-green brothers claiming to be plumbers but who display skillsets wholly incongruous with plumbing would've tipped her off," I said.

"My sister is not always the most observant person in the world."

"She is not."

We fell silent again, before this time  _ Amy _ broke it with a sigh.

"Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean to be so hard on you, just..."

"I get it, hon," I said, shaking my head. "You're right, it's just... bluh."

"Hug?"

"If you're offering," I said, lifting my arms.

Amy put in a bookmark and sat up as I approached, and sighed contentedly as I wrapped my arms tightly around her.

"Did you tell Aunt Sarah about the, uh, therapy thing?" Amy asked.

"Yeah, I told her to get you to a therapist, and that you probably have BPD, and I very much kept the detail about Vicky to myself and will be taking that to the grave, as per your request."

"You're my favorite cousin," Amy said.

"I'll be sure to brag about that next time I see Laserdream," I said.

"Tell her she got dethroned because she wouldn't play D&D with me," Amy said. "And then tell her that she should play D&D with me."

"Does that extend to Shielder?"

"Eric has a deep hatred of all things nerdy, and also isn't exactly fond of you, either."

"Well, sure, I don't expect him to  _ accept _ the offer, I'd just feel bad about not extending it to him in the first place. Don't want him feeling left out, y'know?"

"Where the hell is this consideration for other people in everything  _ else _ you do?" Amy asked.

"Baby steps," I said. "I'm not exactly great with people, in case you haven't noticed."

"I just told you to get better at it like two minutes ago," Amy said flatly.

_ "Baby steps," _ I repeated.

"Yeah, yeah. Can I go back to my book, now?"

I let go of her, and she flopped back over onto her side.

"Holler if you need anything," I said as I showed myself out.

"Bye."

I closed the door, and sighed. This disaster was in Lady Photon's hands now... hopefully they were good ones.


	19. Ace Up My Sleeve(Rough Draft)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of No Bed of Rose's, and unfortunately, it ends with a whimper. This is an unfinished draft/outline of the final chapter, which will be followed by the epilogue, and THEN followed by my final thoughts and what I plan to do next. Thanks for sticking with me.

"The hell's even the point of this?" I asked.

"The PRT throws two of these parties every summer to try and draw in teen vigilantes and make them want to join the Wards," Lisa explained. "It is, therefore, our best chance of finding all the Wards in costume and in one place. Need any other refreshers?"

"No, no, I remember the plan," I said, shaking my head as we approached the door. I didn't remember details like what this place was called, just that it was this big, gaudy building with a godawful misunderstanding of Art Deco, and that I'd be happy to never see it again in my life. "But... man, they're really cuttin' it close with this party, huh? School starts up next week."

"Well, yeah. That's the point. They throw the first one at the start of summer, and the second at the end of summer. Some Thinker somewhere said it was the optimal solution for getting the most recruits- sounds about right to me, personally."

I sighed. "Alright, well. Good luck. Two minutes delay, right?"

"Yep. You'll know where to find me, then?"

"Superheroes aren't usually hard to spot."

Lisa walked in without me, in full Tattletale costume, and I pulled out my phone, setting a timer for two minutes before starting to browse some forum(for a webcomic, not for Parahumans Online).

Soon, two minutes were up, and I strode in after her, quietly cursing my gas mask and its small lenses; I could barely see anything that wasn't straight in front of me in this damn thing.

Still, what I'd said about superheroes being easy to spot was doubly true for New Wave. They had claimed one of the many, many tables around the circumference of the room, and the Pelhams- save for Manpower, who had never met me- all looked like they were trying to pretend they hadn't seen me. I approached nonetheless, making a beeline for the adults' side of the table.

"Brandish, it's good to see you again," I said. "I hope you're feeling better."

#rose and carol talk; carol is apologetic and chastened. amy needles carol once or twice, which carol winces and accepts without complaint.

"Do you mind if I borrow your daughters for a few moments?" I asked. "

#Rose collects Amy and Vicky, for testimony and character witness at the court of opinion Lisa's about to hold.

\---

#Rose, Amy, and Vicky overhear Dean explaining at length his conception of chivalry to Lisa- foundational are Mercy(being gentle with people), Charity(giving without expectation of reward), and Humility(acknowledging your advantages without viewing those without them as your inferiors).

#Lisa proposes that he views capes differently from civilians, as people he doesn't have to be gentle with, because they're dangerous if left alone.

#Dean tries to argue to the contrary, and Lisa quickly points out that he was quick to drop the hammer on Rose.

#The trio step forward into view. Rose confirms his mistreatment of her. Everyone realizes what's going on pretty quick.

#Vicky brings up Dean's manipulation of her mother, which got Amy kicked out of the house. (Should Carol be present for this? She'd be the only adult in the room, which is weird, but also she's 1) an authority figure and 2) a direct and intentional victim of Dean's manipulation)

#Lisa continues, rattling on about how Dean's talk of chivalrous conduct simply does not apply to his fellow parahumans. That he sees them as walking powderkegs and he's the only one who's qualified to keep them defused, and any hurt feelings in the process are justified because their feelings don't actually matter except as means to the end of stability as he sees it.

"You see, Gallant, just about every single cape has post-traumatic stress disorder. That's what a trigger event  _ does _ to people. That's what everyone else in this room is carrying, every day," Lisa said. "So congratulations, Gallant! Your brave crusade against the mentally ill has been an astounding show of valor! The Order of Quixote would like to recognize you for finding a worse delusion to tilt at than windmills!"

#Dean has gone silent. Eyes are on him, doubting him, believing Lisa- dots are connecting, things are making more sense.

#Lisa crescendos with the crown jewel of this shithead, his relationship with Victoria, which he lovingly deemed "Dallon Containment Duty" in his texts to Dennis.

"Oh, and who can forget the, ahem, crown jewel, his relationship with our resident tiara afficionado," Lisa said, gesturing at Vicky. "How did you phrase it in your texts to Clockblocker? Ah, yes, 'Dallon Containment Duty.' 'Once more unto the breach.' 'I swear to god, if I let this crazy bitch out of my sight for ten minutes she's gonna kill someone one of these days.' Did you ever really care about her? Or just who she could end up hurting." Lisa smirked before she delivered the final blow. "Judging by the fact you two only started dating after she got powers..."

#Victoria is quivering in rage. She wasn't aware of this until now. Lisa had warned them that she'd say things none of them liked, but their reactions had to be genuine; now they all know why. Rose and Amy move to physically restrain her, and she stops them with a shake of her head. He's not worth it. She's done with him. He can be someone else's problem.

#With that declaration, she turns and starts walking away. Amy and Lisa follow after her.

#Rose doesn't.

"Do you have something to add?" Triumph asked, glancing between Rose and Dean.

"Stayed behind to gloat, bitch?" Dean growled, ignoring his leader.

"You are where I was on the worst day of my life," I said quietly. "I'm sorry. It shouldn't have come to this. But, it did. And tomorrow, and the day after? The only option you really have, is to accept that you have done wrong, that you should have been better. And then strive to be better. The world turns, and life goes on. It's hard. But you have to." I swallowed carefully. "I'm sorry."

#He doesn't respond, simply turns and walks away.


	20. Epilogue(Rough Draft)

Kitty blinked a few times, then asked, "...And the talent agent said, that's a hell of a show you got there, what do you call that act?"

"The Aristocrats!" Rose said. "But yeah, that's what happened here, those... oh, five years ago, now. You missed a  _ lot  _ while you were gone," Rose added, glancing at Rachel.

"Didn't miss  _ her _ ," Rachel "Hellhound" Lindt said, her arm around her wife's shoulders.

"Gay."

"Yeah."

"So, after Dean left, at the party..." Kitty asked.

"Never heard from him again," Rose said. "We all wanted to be done with each other. Heard he left town for college, and then... never came back. He's probably off somewhere in god-knows-where, living a better life. I don't actually give a shit." Rose tapped her chin. "Although, I recall Vicky spreading what he did through the grapevine, such that his dating prospects through the rest of high school were pretty severely limited. So... probably didn't leave in order to give the people he hurt some space away from him without having to leave themselves."

"Mmn. Well, that's depressing."

"Yeah, unfortunately..." Rose shrugged. "He's someone else's problem, now."

"Alright... well, what about your cousin, Amy?"

"Been in therapy for the past five years," Rose said. "Her social life has little intersection with mine or Victoria's, these days- she spends a lot of her time casually dating the cheerleaders at Brockton Bay University, and has picked up an interest in sports."

"Which ones?" Rachel asked.

" All sorts, really- basketball, football, soccer, volleyball, even hockey. Vicky's gotten back into it too, which kinda surprised me, but it's something for them to put on the TV for six hours every Sunday afternoon and watch while eating chips and hanging out. I adapt my schedule to be out of the house during those times."

"Rose-" Kitty began, concerned.

"Relax, I'm just an insufferable nerd who hates sports," Rose said, shaking her head. "They're not  _ abusive _ or anything. I just cannot tolerate sports, so I go somewhere else every Sunday. Lisa likes to use those times as our weekly date nights."

"How  _ is _ that smug bitch?" Rachel asked.

"She's doing pretty well, all told."


	21. Final Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end. Thanks for sticking it out with me through this mess.

So here we are at the end of this mess, with an unfinished ending and an acknowledgement that it's over. How did it end up like this? And where do we go from here?

In answer to the latter question, that's quite simple- I'm working on a rewrite of No Bed of Rose's right now, and will be posting that once I have a nice backlog prepared. Keep an eye on my Ao3 page, and I might even end up posting it on Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity, too.

In answer to the former question, that's... a longer story. The short version is that real life got busy right at the time when I was least certain of my artistic vision and over the past month and a half, I've had plenty of time to realize that what I was planning wasn't actually a great idea, so I'm giving up and starting over, trying to do it right this time.

The long version? Well, settle in.

Let's start with real life. I'm a college student, and things predictably got pretty hectic with the COVID-19 pandemic and quarantine- yeah, I know, we _all_ know, but whoever's reading this in like ten years might not, and there's no point beating around that particular bush. However, I wrote this whole thing, start to finish, during quarantine. What _really_ made my schedule slip is that I'm _also_ a game design student- or rather, I _was_ a game design student, and this hectic time just so happened to overlap with my capstone project, producing a full-fledged game with a team of other students. I was able to balance that with this writing project, right up until early July, when two things happened side-by-side: one, the project entered more-or-less crunch mode, and two, I published Chapter 18 and looked at the plot outline and how I was going to bring this bitch down for a landing.

The game came first. And for that effort, I was rewarded with a diploma- I am now, officially, a formally-trained game designer, which legally entitles me in the state of New Jersey to go into the comments of Gamer fanfictions and complain about the shoddy game design. I don't live in Jersey, though, so I'm not gonna do that. However, in my free moments, I thought more and more about No Bed of Rose's and its trajectory, and how everything fell into place, and... I wasn't happy with it. I didn't like how I'd shifted gears two thirds of the way through, and I didn't like what I'd shifted gears _into_ , either- there's authors who can do serious, complicated, messy interpersonal drama pretty well, and I know I'm not one of them. I've tried it, and I'm not good at it.

There was something I kind of liked about the _idea_ of the more dramatic bit, which was the recognition that Rose is not an uncomplicatedly good person- she has flaws that hurt people around her, and if you can still like her, great, but there's _also_ perfectly good reasons to _not_ like her and want her to stay away. I thought that was cool, and deep, and nuanced, and all those other buzzwords.

But it wasn't necessarily good storytelling, because I did not pitch this as a story about a messy fuckup of a person reckoning with their shitty past misdeeds, I pitched it as a story about a trans lesbian who has good things happen to her. And more to the point, as much as Rose's flaws are true to life and close to home, the fact remains that it's an _astonishingly_ poor idea to sell a story on "hey look, transbian representation" only to jump out of the cake two thirds of the way through with "surprise, the transbian was a predatory creep in high school!"

And so, for the rewrite of No Bed of Rose's, I'm cutting out the parts I tried here that I don't think worked. I'm going to stick far more solidly to my fluff guns- no more random inexplicable Lung fight in the middle of the story(that was a really dumb idea and I originally put it in for a character beat that I ended up cutting _anyways_ so _that_ was completely fucking pointless), no more shitty teen drama that gets resolved _meteorically_ quickly and cleanly, we are _just_ going to be focusing on the parts that were good and people liked- Rose, Vicky, Lisa, and Amy getting into hairsplitting arguments about D&D and anime.

And so, as is fitting for a character who turns back time, we're starting over and wiping the slate clean. I'm excited for the rewrite, and I can't wait to take you with me on this journey. When it goes up, I'll edit in a link to it as a post-script. Thanks again for reading. I love you.


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